


Negotiation

by asocialconstruct



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Blood, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Violence, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:51:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 49,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't think you get how this works, Abel</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Abel**

Abel was shaken awake, on alert right away with Cain's hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” Cain said, letting him go and throwing his clothes at him.

“Where are the sirens?” Abel asked as he pulled on clothes, half awake but adrenaline buzzed with Cain's jittery tension. The last few days had been protein bars and caffeine pills in the lab, working with the rest of the navigators to find a way for Sleipnir to get out of this running silent. They'd been working later and later while the fighters did—whatever it was fighters did when the ship was running silent. His back ached from falling asleep curled around Cain and they both still smelled like last night, no time for a shower to wash away the smell of sweat and Cain's cigarettes.

“Just shut up and get dressed,” Cain snapped. He smoked and paced the three steps of their cramped room, and pushed Abel out into the empty hallway before he had his jacket pulled all the way on.

0300\. Their wing was on night shift, the halls empty and quiet as Cain led them to the lift, Cain's footsteps loud and Abel's hurrying to keep up the only sound until the doors closed on them and there was nothing. Abel shifted in the silent lift, the awkward silence too uncomfortably like their first day.

Cain held the lift doors closed at their stop. Fighters' training level. Abel looked at Cain, his heart starting to pound in his throat. There were so many terrible ways this could go, Cain's face closed and unreadable.

Cain ground his cigarette out against the wall and flicked the butt into the corner of the lift. “You're going to shut up and stick close to me. Don't look anyone in the eye and don't fucking touch me. It's midshift so you should be fine.”

“Cain, I don't think--”

“I said _shut the fuck up_.” The doors opened and Cain walked out, not waiting to see if Abel followed.

Cain walked differently here. In their shared space, Cain took up the whole space but made room for Abel—here, Abel felt pushed out of arm's reach by the set of Cain's jaw and his stance. The few other fighters they passed sized up Cain, giving him a nod or wary space, but Abel felt oddly invisible for how out of place he felt. Navigators' training felt like the lab or command center—bright, efficient and clean, gym and lab, library and sim all laid out neatly, but there were scars on the walls here, and no straight paths. Abel hurried to keep up with Cain's swagger, trying to not be lost and trapped down here.

Cain keyed open a door and pushed Abel into the darkness, checking behind them before he locked the door. Abel reached a hand out in the dark, turning a little to find a wall. He flinched back at Cain's irritated swipe as Abel's hand accidentally grazed his shoulder.

The harsh lights flickered on overhead, painful after the half-light of the hallway and the darkness. A shooting range. Whatever Abel had been expecting, it wasn't this.

Cain reached inside his uniform jacket and pulled a pistol from a new shoulder harness. “You ever shot a gun?” Cain asked, handing it to Abel grip first.

“I went skeet shooting with my dad once,” Abel said, holding the gun flat with both hands and looking down at it. Heavy and cold, it took both hands to keep it balanced.

Cain snorted. “Pansy. They don't teach you navigators anything. We got carry orders, so you're going to learn how to shoot. Not going to let you to get your candy ass killed first thing when we get boarded.”

“When—” Abel looked up at Cain. No one from command had said anything—at least, to the navigators they hadn't.

“When. They don't give the order to ships that make it through. Here's how you load it.” Cain walked him through loading and checking the safety, snapping directions but strangely patient even when Abel dropped the clip the second time, his hands shaking from lack of sleep and the worry that they'd be found even with the door locked.

Abel's first shot down the range went wild, maybe hitting the ceiling he was shaking so badly.

Cain stepped up behind him, rearranging Abel's stance. Cain's breath on the back of his neck as he grabbed Abel's hips didn't help, Cain's fingers digging in like when they fucked, demanding and insistent. It had been a while since their last time, their schedules not lining up except for scrambled patrols, Abel pulling longer shifts and coming back to the room exhausted every night. Cain’s pelvis pressed into his ass, distracting him from the gun, the shooting range, from the danger of being caught down here on the fighters’ level.

With his face just over Abel's shoulder, Cain wrapped his hands over Abel's on the gun, bringing the pistol up. “Relax, princess, it's just a gun,” he said waiting a few seconds as Abel took a deep breath, Cain pressed to his back and Cain's arms folding him in. “Now pull.”

Abel took his second shot as the door override signal sounded and Cain spun away from him.

Two fighters swaggered in, a big one Cain's height but wider, and another taller but lighter. “What a cute date,” the tall one said, stepping towards Abel. “Who's the girlfriend, Cain? You bring her around so she can find a husband?”

Cain pushed past the wider one and put himself between Abel and the tall fighter. “That's the navigator who's going to shoot you in the balls if you don't step off, Laius. He's mine.” Abel stood there pointing the gun at the floor in both hands, watching stupidly over Cain's shoulder with big eyes. The wide fighter smiled at him crookedly and kissed the air. Abel had seen him before, with Porthos? Porthos’s fighter, Planchet, licked his lips.

“I just thought it was awful cute of you to bring him down here after Bering said to leave the navigators out of it, is all,” Laius said, ignoring Abel now, taking a step towards Cain, looming over him.

“Yeah? I thought it was pretty cute how he told you to take it up the ass from your navigator and you did that too,” Cain said, pushing Laius into the other one. “Abel, fuck off,” Cain said over his shoulder.

Abel stood there for a second, rooted in place. Cain looked at him for the first time and Abel all but ran for the door, shaken out of his staring by Cain's glare. He stood outside as the door closed, holding the gun and not sure what to do with it, not sure if he should wait where any fighter might see him, and not sure even how to get back to the lift. The door keyed open after a moment, though, and Cain came out with a bloody lip, looking pleased with himself. He put a hand on Abel's shoulder and pushed him ahead back to the lift.

Abel held the gun out to Cain once the lift doors were safely closed. “Keep it. Stick it in your pants til we get back. Fuck, take the clip out first, genius,” Cain said as Abel moved to put it away. He flushed as Cain grabbed gun away from him and took the clip out. “Shoot your cock off and you'll be no goddamn use. And don't tell any of your little navigator friends about this or I'll take your balls off myself.”

Cain stretched and cracked his neck as the lift stopped at their level. It was too early, both of them up late last night, but not enough time to go back to sleep. Cain looked sideways at Abel, flicking his eyes at the time on the lift panel. Still an hour until Abel was scheduled at the lab. “You got time for a fuck?” he asked. Abel flushed deeper and let himself be pushed out as the lift doors opened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Abel**

The alarm blinked from the wall, red but silent, waking them up too early. Never enough sleep, the lab pushing longer hours and Cain pushing to keep him up every night or wake up early to fuck, no rest since before the shooting range.  Abel stretched against Cain's hand on his thigh, still sore from last night.  He'd bled a little, but it had been worth it at the time, needing Cain and all his roughness, needing to just escape into what Cain wanted from him and nothing else.  Cain stirred against him, hard already and pulling them together.

Abel rolled his shoulders against the soreness, craning his neck to check the time as Cain raked a hand up his thigh.  Forty minutes.  He'd be on time if he skipped breakfast and they were quick, the comfort of being able to forget everything for a few minutes worth it.  Abel tipped his head back to meet Cain's mouth.

The smell of him was overwhelming on their sheets, in the closeness of the tiny room.  Abel wanted to be wrapped up in that smell.  It was easy to just let everything else slide away and let the world narrow down to Cain's hands, Cain's mouth, Cain's smell, so easy to push back against him and pretend this was all there was to worry about. So easy to just be spread open and let Cain press into him, hands and mouth and cock.

Cain's fingers, slick but forced in too sharp, jerked Abel out of his sleepy need with a new sharp pain instead of soreness.

Cain pushed himself up on one elbow, making a face at the new blood and old semen on his hand.  “Ugh.  You're a fucking mess,” he said, reaching down to wipe his hand on the thin blanket tangled around their feet.

Abel curled back towards the wall, embarrassed.  He was soft again with the pain and the look on Cain's face, the soreness in his shoulders coming back as he woke up all the way.  Cain put a hand on his hip.

Abel tried to brush his hand away.  “I'm not interested--”

Cain shut him up with a quick push and they were tangled together again, Cain dragging Abel toward him by the hair and fingers digging into his hip.  Abel twisted back towards Cain before he realized what he was doing, his cock twitching hard again as Cain pulled his knees up and teased the inside of Abel's thigh with his fingers. 

A sharp bite to his ear made Abel arch his back, pushing his cock into Cain's waiting hand.  Cain was rough, his hand hard and a little callused, kneading and pulling, pausing long enough to rake his thighs again.  Cain bit his lips again and pulled away just far enough to make Abel try to follow his mouth, only to have his head pulled back to the mattress by Cain's hand in his hair.  Cain watched him with a look between clinical interest and a smirk, eyes lidded and teeth on his bottom lip.  Abel pushed himself up just to have his hair pulled again, Cain stroking him too slowly.

Cain moved, leaving Abel gasping neglected until a sudden bite to his side just below the ribs, Cain moving down his side and belly with a lick here and a sharp suck there.  Cain lay out next to him, head to toe, and Abel turned his head to take Cain into his mouth as Cain skipped over Abel's aching cock to bite his inner thigh and hip.

Abel sighed when Cain finally swallowed him, hot and hard, teeth just grazing the head of Abel's cock.  He grasped after Cain, trying to suck him deeper, trying to get them both off quickly, Cain just teasing and drawing it out when he knew Abel had to finish this quickly. Abel put a hand on Cain's ass to keep him in place, even though it would get him scolded later.

He was close, so close even though Cain was trying to make him hold it back, pausing to just stroke Abel with the tip of his tongue and trailing fingers on his thigh.

Abel almost reached down to grab him by the hair and make him stop teasing until the wall chimed an incoming call.  He would have ignored it if it was anyone else.  Keeler.

Abel pushed himself up on one elbow, brushing Cain's hair to get him to look up.  “I have to take this,” he said apologetically, trying to give a half smile to Cain's annoyed look.  He waved open the audio-only com.  “Abel,” he said, hoping this wouldn't be anything immediate.

“Abel, Keeler.  I need you to come in as soon as you can.”  Abel caught Cain's eye just as a wicked look passed over his face.  He wasn't fast enough to keep Cain's mouth from dipping back down, mouth back on Abel's cock before he could get a hand caught in Cain's hair, mouth hard and wet to make Abel bite back a gasp. No teasing now, just pushing, trying to drag any sound out of him.

“New intel just came in and we have to run the trajectories over,” Keeler went on as Cain worked, teeth and tongue, nose brushing Abel's hip and hands pushing his thighs open. “We're scrapping everything.  Your idea from last night might work now.”

Last night--?  He could barely remember last night, barely remember where he was and who he was talking to. “I'm on my way,” Abel managed, and waved the com closed.  He reached for Cain again, desperate to finish both for the release and to not be late.  He slicked his hand with spit before thumbing the head of Cain's cock, stroking Cain as frantically as he felt, only to have Cain back off and look up at him, holding the head of his cock lightly between his teeth. Dangerous and smug.

Abel gritted his teeth against the risk, his stomach knotted with need and anxiety, and he pushed Cain's head back down.

Abel shuddered, laying back against the mattress again, overwhelmed with Cain's savage, engulfing warmth, only remembering barely enough to keep his hand wrapped around Cain.  He came hard and fast, Cain's mouth gone before he was finished, Cain sitting up as he pulled Abel's head into his lap, brushing his cheek with a thumb.

Abel curled limp on his side around Cain, his face on resting on Cain's sweat slicked thigh, cock in his mouth, held in place by Cain's hand on the back of his head.  Abel pushed himself up enough to sneak a hand between Cain's legs, cupping and pulling as his sucked, bringing Cain off with his head held firmly in place.  Abel lay there for a second, swallowing, as Cain brushed his hair down and breathed heavily over him, but they didn't have time to just lay there.

Cain caught him as he sat up, kissing him as Abel knelt on the bed, getting up to find pants.  Abel thrilled a little, tired as he was, to have Cain use him and pull him back like that, the taste of come still in his mouth and now Cain's tongue pushing into him.

Abel pulled himself away and winced as he pushed himself gingerly into pants, sore and sensitive, Cain watching without a word as he pulled on clothes.  Abel raked a hand through his hair and hurried out the door, flushing at Cain's smug look.


	3. Chapter 3

**Abel**

Keeler kept them working through lunch again, rerunning old trajectories and testing new ones against the intel.  Enemy ships had gotten closer, hemming them in and hunting, but not close enough yet and just a sliver of a chance for them to get out still left.  Abel knuckled his eyes at his desk, the sphere rotating behind his eyes. It made him nauseous with the small angle of escape they’d plotted over it, tiny, like threading a needle, but there was just no other way out.

He pushed himself away from his desk, his back cracking as he stood, sore from coding and being pushed around by Cain in his sleep.  Abel ducked out into the hall where the little table had been set up with coffee and sandwiches, the clatter of a couple dozen navigators typing and arguing following him out into the low, tired murmur of the hallway, navigators leaning against walls and eating with blank faces.

Not much left.  Abel shouldered past another navigator staring into his coffee to get a cup, but stopped short at the sound of Phobos’ voice behind him.

“Thought you were going out for a quickie with Keeler, Abel.  He’s got such a hard-on for you these days,” Phobos said, flicking hair out of his eyes as Abel turned around.  Porthos loomed behind him, the unspoken threat backing up Phobos' jeers.

“Jealousy isn’t very becoming, Phobos,” Abel said, turning away from them again with a glare.  It was petty and stupid, but all he wanted was one of the wilted, squashed sandwiches and to go back to work. He was just tired of it, tired of Porthos and Phobos and their jealousy, their needling and their pushing.  “Maybe if you want Keeler's attention, you should spend more time running your numbers instead of your mouth,” Abel said, his back to them.

“From what I hear, you’d know about running your mouth,” Phobos said, taking a step closer, right behind Abel now, close enough that he could smell Phobos' fighter on him.  “I heard you’re getting comfortable with your fighter.  That faggot teach you a thing or two about how to use your pretty mouth—?”

Abel rounded on him before thinking about it, his fist connecting wetly with Phobos’ mouth.  He staggered back into Porthos, eyes big and hand to his mouth.  “You’ll fucking pay for that, Abel.”

“Let's see you try,” Abel spat, angry and shaky from lack of sleep and food and too much caffeine and the tension hanging over the whole ship.

Phobos pushed away from a surprised Porthos, coming at Abel with fists swinging wide, missing his first punch but landing the second along Abel’s left eye.  Abel swung wide of him too, overbalancing and taking them both down but ending up on top, pinning Phobos down as the other navigator tried to swing up at him.  Navigators weren’t trained for this sort of thing, and Abel swung on emotion, cracking Phobos’ nose, straddling him and holding him down with one hand.

He got in another solid, wet hit to Phobos’ mouth before Porthos knocked him off with a punch to Abel’s jaw that sent him sprawling.  Porthos pulled Phobos up and away, blood running down his chin from a bleeding nose and split lip.  Abel pressed a hand against his own bruising mouth and hauled himself up just as Keeler stuck his head into the corridor.

Keeler looked back and forth at them and the other navigators who had stood and watched, clearly annoyed but not clear at who. Maybe all of them, maybe just Abel. Keeler jerked his head, frowning at Abel.  “Get in here.  Your trajectory is almost done running,” Keeler snapped, then disappeared back in the lab.  Abel shouldered past Porthos and Phobos with a glare.

“Good thing you have skirts to hide behind this time,” Phobos muttered to his back.

_  
_

* * *

 

Abel leaned against their door in the empty hallway that night, jaw and eye pounding.  He was late.  He was tired.  He was hungry.   He couldn't decide if he hoped Cain was awake or asleep already, wanting the comfort of leaning against someone, but sure Cain would want to know where the bruises had come from.

Abel finally made himself open the door, Cain sitting on the bed smoking, still dressed, awake and annoyed.  Abel keyed the door closed and started taking off his uniform in the half dark.  Cain shifted on the mattress, his feet up across it on the side Abel usually slept on, but he stayed sitting.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Cain demanded.

“Busy working,” Abel sighed, not ready to have this argument again.  He threw his coat and pants in the corner and started to lay down in his undershirt, tucked on the little corner of the bed left for him, if Cain was going to be that way.

Cain was up in a second and pulled Abel up with him by the wrist.  “Busy getting fucked by the asshole who did this?” he said, pushing Abel into the wall and pressing his thumb into the bruised flesh around Abel's mouth.  “What happened, you tell that fucker Praxis you like it rough and he took it too far?”  Cain pushed Abel's head side to side, glaring at Abel's eye starting to swell shut and blowing smoke in his face. 

Abel coughed and put a hand to Cain's chest, thinking he should have slept in the lab tonight like more of the navigators were doing lately.  Cain wouldn't be happy to hear any of it, and Abel was just too exhausted to deal with it. “It wasn't anything, just a navigator thing--”

“You're fucking a _navigator_?” Cain snapped, dragging Abel's wrist up, his face twisting.

“It was just a fight, I just got in a fight with another navigator, it's not anything.”  Cain's face went blank, but he dropped Abel's wrist at least. Cain frowned down at him, still standing too close, the smell of him overwhelming.

He took another drag on his smoke and blew it up at the ceiling, looking sideways at Abel.  “Sit down,” Cain demanded, pushing Abel down to the bed, then settled in next to him, leaning back against the wall.  Abel leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.  “So'd you fuck up the other fairy good?” Cain asked, pushing Abel enough to put his arm around his shoulders.  

Abel sighed, wishing they could just go to sleep. “It was stupid, nothing happened.”

Cain's hand tightened on his shoulder, pressing at the muscles starting to go stiff and sore from too many hours typing.

Cain took another long drag on his cigarette. “Not what I asked,” he said.

“You'll see him in the cafeteria tomorrow,” Abel said, trying to satisfy Cain's curiosity and get them to bed as soon as possible.  He was due back in the lab in five hours, and he still had to eat, dinner or breakfast or whichever meal he'd skipped and whatever time it would be when he was due back.  “I got him better than he got me.”

Cain laughed at that.  “He deserve it?” Cain asked, a little edge back in his voice.

Abel opened his eyes at that, looking at Cain's booted feet in front of them.  He'd wanted to punch Phobos in the mouth, not get him killed.  “It was just a navigator thing,” Abel said.

Cain put out his cigarette against the wall and flicked it to the floor.  He leaned over and feinted a bite at Abel's ear.  “You said that.  I asked if he deserved it.”

Abel leaned away from him, tired and sore.  Phobos had gotten what he deserved and Abel wasn't about to send Cain after him.  “It was just stupid shit, it wasn't about anything.”

Cain pushed Abel down on the bed, leaning down to put a hard kiss on his neck, biting just a little, a promise or a threat.  “Maybe you want another black eye to match if it wasn't about anything,” Cain said, looming over him.  

Abel sighed, annoyed, and rolled away from Cain.  “You have to promise not to do anything about it.”

“Why?  Who you protecting, princess?” Cain snapped, pushing himself sitting.

“Because I know you.  Just promise,” Abel sighed, not wanting to do this but not seeing any way out to just get them to bed.

Cain rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever."

Abel chewed his lip.  “He called you a faggot.  So I punched him in the mouth.”

Silence.

Abel cursed himself and braced for the worst.

Cain laughed, a little snort at first and then real laughter.  He pulled Abel back and kissed him hard, pushing his tongue into Abel's bruised mouth.

Abel pushed him away, relieved to be done fighting but too exhausted for this. “Cain, you're hurting--”

“Glad your balls finally dropped, princess.”  Cain leaned in for another kiss, his tongue forcing past Abel's sore lips and his hand raking up Abel's thigh.

Abel winced and made to push himself up.  “Cain, I'm not interested, you're hurting--”

“So?  Quit whining and we can make it a quickie,” Cain said, pulling at him.

Abel shrugged out of Cain's hands and sat up.  “I said I'm not interested.  I'm still sore from last time and--”

Cain frowned. “That was days ago, you--”

“Then maybe you shouldn't have been so rough,” Abel snapped, and regretted it as soon as he said it.

Cain smiled slowly, leaning into Abel again. “Maybe you shouldn't have begged for it harder if you couldn't take it, sweetheart.”

Abel pulled his knees up between them and wrapped his arms around his legs, too tired and sore for any of this.  “Cain, I'm not looking for a fight, I just want to go to sleep--”

Cain sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine.  Put out and you can go to sleep,” he said, probably thinking that was a good compromise.

Abel put his head on his knees, trying to will himself hard past the caffeine hangover and exhaustion, trying to just make himself want it.  He brought his head up at the thought of something worth losing sleep for.  “Could we try it—try it the other way?” Abel asked, hopeful.  Maybe if Cain wanted sex enough, bored and restless with how little it seemed the fighters had to do, he'd be willing to do something different, just once. Abel brought his knees down and fumbled around for the words for it. “With, you know, me—”

Cain recoiled as he finally realized what Abel was suggesting.  “No.”

“Why not—?” Abel asked, reaching out to touch Cain's shoulder.

Cain pushed himself up off the bed, out of Abel's reach.  He looked down at Abel for a second, his jaw grinding back and forth, and Abel leaned away from him.  “Because I said so,” Cain said finally.  He grabbed his jacket off the dresser and pulled it on.  “Have it your way, princess.”  Cain turned and opened the door, two steps and he was gone.

“Cain, where are you—”  The door shut between them.  

Abel lay back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling.  He fell asleep before he could decide whether to go after Cain.


	4. Chapter 4

**Abel**

The alarm went off too early.  Or Abel thought it went off too early, told it to wake him up later, and now he was late.  His left eye was hot and puffy from the fight, and he couldn't see much out of it.  Abel pulled on last night's clothes from the floor and dragged himself out of the room, hoping that skipping breakfast would leave him enough time to be barely late, hoping Keeler wouldn't notice.

Instead he ran into Cain as he rounded the corner to the lift.  Abel bounced off him mid-step, Cain smelling like liquor and cigarettes and something else, catching Abel by the arm.  Cain smiled down at him and Abel noticed a new hickey on his neck, just above his jacket collar.

Cain turned Abel by the shoulder and started pulling him back to their room by the wrist.  “Cain, where were you--"

“Busy working,” Cain sneered, not stopping.

Abel put his feet down, hauling against Cain's grip as hard as he could to make him stop.  Cain swung around to face him with the same face he'd had when he decked a fighter who groped Abel in the lift, dangerous and wound tight, ready to snap.  “I'm late for my shift," Abel rushed, anything to calm Cain down. "I'll get someone to cover for me so I can get out early, and then we can--”

Cain swung him into the wall by his jacket, stepping close and leaning in to put his mouth to Abel's ear, warm and close enough to bite.  “I don't think you get how this works, Abel,” he murmured, seductive and soft.  “I was being nice last night, but I don't have to ask.”  Cain tilted his head back far enough to look Abel in the eye.

Abel stared at him and swallowed once, twice.  He set his jaw.  “You wouldn't,” Abel said.  Would he?  He wouldn’t. Cain had always stopped before, this was just an empty threat.

Cain smiled, one of his hard, predatory, feral smiles.  “You don't think so, do you--?” Abel pushed Cain's hands away and tried to get past him, anything to get out of his reach.  Cain grabbed him with one hand on his shoulder and one hand in his hair, yanking him back.

He pulled Abel's head backwards by the hair, but let him go suddenly.  Abel staggered away from him, getting his balance as he saw Praxis and his new navigator Ethos come around the corner towards them, walking towards the lifts, both of them looking past Abel to Cain.  Abel hurried away from all of them as fast as he dared in the direction of the lifts, listening to the footsteps behind him.  Two sets—three—then just two.

Abel ducked into the waiting lift, pressing at the door button, and managed to get them closed just as Praxis and Ethos came up.

 

* * *

 

At the end of his shift, Abel collapsed onto one of the pallets they'd brought into the lab.  More and more of the navigators were being diverted to help find a way out of this gravity shadow, but if the scouts were right, it was only a matter of time before they were hunted down and the Sleipnir was in no shape to run or fight, the only thing left their little sliver of a trajectory that would have its own casualties.  Abel dozed fitfully to the sound of other navigators sleeping poorly, pieces of his nightmare about Cain coming back. His back and neck ached from the hard pallet and the fight and being yanked by Cain.

Abel was jerked awake with a hand on his shoulder, disoriented and ready for Cain, not sure if he should put up a fight or not.

Ethos pulled back from him with a worried look.  Abel groaned and lay back on the pallet.

“What do you want, Ethos?” Abel sighed, rubbing his eyes.  Barely out of academy, Ethos shouldn't have been here.  Abel shouldn't have been here.

“Are you ok?" Ethos asked, sitting next to Abel and twisting his hands.  "My fighter said your fighter is crazy.”

“Praxis?  No, I'm ok.  What time is it?”  Abel pushed himself up on one elbow, feeling stiff and rumpled from sleeping on the floor, still wearing a uniform two days old.

“Shift change.  Are you sure?" Ethos asked, chewing his lip and pointedly looking at Abel's black eye.  "Praxis said he'd help if you wanted to get a transfer.”

Abel pushed himself up and made for the picked-over table of protein bars and cold coffee sent up by mess for the navigators working odd shifts, Ethos at his heels.  “Tell Praxis not to worry about it,” Abel said.

“Is your fighter crazy, Abel?  Praxis said Cain's last navigator didn't—didn't get out in time.  Are you sure you're ok?”  Ethos looked at him with big eyes, still chewing on his lip.  Abel gingerly rubbed sleep out of his bruised eye.  

“I'm fine, Ethos.  Look, I have to get back to work, and so do you, ok?  I'm fine, don't worry about it.”

 

* * *

 

Keeler waved Abel out while they were running the numbers on a promising jump.  “Just a couple hours.  Clear your head before you burn out, but I need you back once we're done running this set,” Keeler said, dark circles under his eyes.

A shower, a clean uniform, and maybe—maybe Cain had had time to cool down, maybe they'd have enough time to make things right.  Abel checked the time and stopped into the cafeteria first so he'd get back to the room around Cain's shift change. He'd mostly convinced himself Cain would be cooled down by the time he got to their door, going over apologies in his head, trying to work out how to keep it from turning into another fight.

Abel keyed open their door, and Cain was there—naked, sweat slicked, bent over another fighter pressed down on their bed, fucking him hard with a hand in his hair.  Abel keyed the door quickly shut again, but stood there shaken and shaking.  The other fighter—skinny, short, fine boned, like Abel?--had blood running down his face, and deep bite and scratch marks across his shoulders.  And Cain--

Cain.  He hadn't looked up, but he must have heard the door open and close, and who else had the code for their room?  He'd know, and he'd do something about it, find a way to make it Abel's fault or make Abel pay for walking in on that, in his own room. Abel turned and walked away as fast as he dared, bumping into someone, but getting out of there in case—in case something.  He looked over his shoulder a couple of times on his way to the lift, just to be sure, his heart pounding too loudly.

Cain looked disgusted, one hand pushing the other fighter down onto their bed, the other hand wrapped in his hair and pulling his head back, Cain's movements rough and sharp.  Was that how Cain looked when he fucked Abel?  Was that how he wanted Abel, bloody and scratched and held down?

 _I don't have to ask._  

Abel practically ran back to the lab, feeling hot and sick with revulsion, or worse, need and desire, sick with himself and with Cain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Abel**

The next few days were a blur of numbers, re-running sets and regressions to refine what looked like a better trajectory, less casualties, better changes.  Abel showered at the navigators' gym, avoiding Ethos and his worried looks at the fading hickeys and bite marks on Abel's shoulders and neck.  He avoided mirrors, trying not to think about how Cain must have looked at him when he put them there.

Abel was pulled towards Keeler more than ever, all numbers and trajectories, angles of approach and acceleration.  All of Cain's intensity without the sex, pushing and pulling over strategies to get the Sleipnir out instead of over Abel himself.  More exhausting than sex.  Their revisions were getting fevered with enemy ships closing in, their options narrowing and angles of escape getting more dangerous.  Abel lost himself in the work, hanging on Keeler’s approval and revisions of his work, wondering if Keeler was as intense and giving in bed as he was in the lab.

A group of them managed to make breakfast in the mess, arguing over a risky trajectory before the official start of shift, their ideas getting crazier with hunger and the caffeine pills they’d been taking all night to run the last idea.  Abel trailed Keeler to the cafeteria, exhausted but savoring the sensation of being at the center of a laughing group.  They were in line with trays already when Abel turned to tease Ethos about his trajectory and caught sight of Cain across the cafeteria, sitting with a group of fighters.  

Abel turned back to his tray, flushing with Cain’s eyes on his back.  They’d made eye contact, and that other fighter—the small one, the one pressed down on their bed—sat beside Cain, silent and following his look.  Both of them watching Abel. He couldn’t hear Ethos and the others now, his heart pounding in his ears.  Cain had just sat down, it looked like, other fighters still joining their noisy table, so Abel would have to sit there being watched for his whole meal, maybe interrupted if Cain finished first, maybe ignored as Cain walked out with the other fighters, he wasn't sure which was worse.

Abel turned out of line, taking his tray back to the stack, eyes on the floor to avoid catching Cain’s look.  “I just thought of something I’m going to run in the lab quick,” Abel lied to Keeler, not meeting his eyes.  “I’ll see you back there.”

Abel walked out of mess as quickly as he could, feeling Cain watch him without getting up.  Abel breathed a shaky sigh as he slowed in the corridor, relieved to put off the inevitable for a little longer.  He tried not to think about how much worse the confrontation would be the longer he put it off and hoped there would be cold coffee left in the lab.

A hard hand grabbed him by the shoulder and Abel braced himself for Cain, letting himself be spun to show he wasn’t going to fight, not hard at least, only to be pushed into a stranger, the tall fighter from the shooting range looming over him as the other one caught Abel's arms and pinned him.

Laius and Planchet.  They dragged him down an empty side corridor, two turns out of sight of anyone passing in the main hall.  Abel struggled against the pin hold, Planchet’s mouth laughing by one ear as Laius leaned down to the other, their breath too hot and they smelled even worse than Phobos and Porthos, dangerous in a way navigators would never be.

“Heard you got sick of Cain, cutie,” Laius said with a smirk, running a thumb along Abel’s jaw and pressing his mouth open.  “We figured a slut like you might need more than just one little gypsy prick to get you creaming.”  Laius dropped his other hand to Abel’s crotch, pushing his ass back against Planchet’s groin.  “What do you say?”

Abel got his breathing under control and tilted his head back, taking Laius’ thumb in his mouth and easing into Planchet’s hold.  Laius watched him, distracted staring at Abel’s lips wrapped around his thumb.

Abel bit down as hard as he could, forcing his elbow back into Planchet’s gut at the same time.  He held on as Laius jerked away, trying to use the momentum to pull away from Planchet but held fast.  

Laius cradled his bloodied hand to his chest, his face twisted with pain and rage.  “You little cunt,” he said, and drove his fist into Abel’s stomach.

Abel crumpled, never hit so hard, only staying on his feet because he was held up by Planchet.  Laius grabbed Abel's face again, squeezing his still bruised mouth.  “My navigator said you were a prissy little bitch,” Laius said, and pulled his fist back for another swing.

He stopped mid-swing, snarling over his shoulder as someone came up behind him.  Planchet let go of Abel suddenly as another fighter ducked around him, Abel pushed stumbling away between a cursing Laius and bleeding Planchet.

Abel crumpled against the wall, nauseous from the gut punch, trying to push himself out of the way as Cain went after Laius and the little fighter circled Planchet with a knife.  Cain punched Laius in the kidneys and the face until Planchet grabbed Laius away, the little fighter moving to help Abel stand as Cain glared after Laius and Planchet.

The little fighter pulled Abel up by the wrist, a knife in his hand, standing just a little too close.  Shorter than Abel, but pressing into his space, standing as close as Cain would even though they'd never met. He had light eyes, like a navigator.  He helped Abel lean against the wall, tongue flickering over his lips, looking Abel up and down.

“Deimos,” Cain snapped, standing just beyond him.  “Fuck off,” Cain said with a jerk of his head.  A sort of sad little half smile passed over the other fighter’s face, and he backed off, putting away his knife.  Abel saw him glance over his shoulder once as Cain stood there just out of arm’s reach until Deimos was gone.

Cain took a step towards him, but Abel pushed sideways away from the wall, unwilling to be trapped between Cain and the wall here after last time.  “What’s the matter, princess?”  Cain demanded, following.  “Wouldn’t hurt you to be a little grateful.”

“Why should I be?  Because you’re going to do the same as they were?” Abel asked, heart pounding as he backed away down the empty corridor, back towards the main hallway and the safety of the lab.

Cain sneered and caught him, pressing him to the wall, one hand across his throat.  “It’s not rape if you’re begging for it, sweetheart,” he said, and Abel knew, they both knew that Cain didn’t have to ask because even now Abel wouldn’t say no.  That frightened him more than anything else, and he let Cain kiss him, Abel desperate and Cain rough, his hand tightening just a little against Abel’s throat.  

Cain backed off just a little with a lazy smile, leaning on the wall with one hand and running the other down Abel’s arm.  He leaned in to kiss Abel again, a little more gentle this time but with a bite to the bruised side of his mouth.  “Your officer thinks you’re at the lab?” Cain asked.  Abel nodded tightly and let himself to be pushed along the corridor by the arm.  

Until Ethos' voice interrupted, calling down the corridor after them.  “Abel!  Abel, the lab called, your trajectory worked!”

Abel looked over his shoulder past Cain, at Ethos and Keeler and the other navigators coming up behind them at a jog, some of them still carrying sandwiches out of mess.  Keeler caught Abel by the elbow and pulled him away from Cain, the navigators elated and giddy.  Abel allowed himself to be pulled away with a quick glance back at Cain, left glaring in the middle of the corridor. 

“We’re going to run it again, and if it’s good, we’ll be launching today,” Keeler said, elation mixed on his face with exhaustion.  Even if the trajectory was good, there was no avoiding casualties, and they all knew it.  Keeler glanced over his shoulder once and let them lag a little behind the other navigators, his hand still on Abel’s elbow.  “Is that your fighter?” he asked, his eyes flicking backwards as they rounded a corner to the lift.

Abel nodded, mind pressing in too many directions at once to answer.  “You’ll have to fly this one, but after I can put you in for a transfer to central if you want,” Keeler said quietly, hanging back from the lift the other navigators were holding.  

Abel sucked his lip and shook his head.  “It’s fine,” he said.  A transfer to central would mean no more flying.  No more Cain.  “I’m fine.”

“Think about it,” Keeler said, walking them to the lift.


	6. Chapter 6

**Abel**

The launch sirens echoed around the dock, harsh against metal and bounced back again and again, jangling Abel’s frayed nerves as he ran for the Reliant.  Twenty percent casualties was they best they’d been able to project for the ships covering the Sleipnir, and Abel avoided looking at the other crews prepping their ships. Avoided thinking about Cain and trying to get through the eye of a needle with him.

Cain was at the Reliant already, crouched on top and running his part of the pre-flight check.  He only glanced at Abel and turned away to climb down to his seat.  “You look like shit,” Cain said, their comm barely loud enough over the blaring sirens.

“Thanks,” Abel muttered into his helmet, settling into his own seat and trying not to get rattled as he prepped his screen. Trust Cain to get the last word in before they were shot down, grinding Abel down more important to him than keeping them from getting killed.

LAUNCH SEQUENCE ENGAGED

“Your little navigator slumber party keep you from getting any sleep?” Cain asked lazily.  Abel glanced back at him but didn’t answer.  More important things to do, more important things to focus on.

LAUNCH COUNTDOWN IN THREE—

“You navigators too busy with your circle jerk to get us out of this til now?” Cain sneered into the comm.

TWO

“Cain—“

“That long-haired fairy looks like he’d—“

ONE

They were launched, suddenly silent with the roar of the Reliant’s engines, weightless and crushed against the acceleration away from the Sleipnir.  Cain and Abel both inhaled sharply as the enormity of the Colteron fleet waiting for them came clear on the array, too many of them, more than they'd ever gone after before.

Abel tracked with Red team in formation away from the Sleipnir, protecting the cruiser's flank as it accelerated away, the last of the fighter teams launched.  Cain was quiet except for snapped directions as he picked off incoming targets, cursing when Abel clipped a little too close in formation and a shot went wide, rattled by lack of sleep and Cain and the sudden realization of what was happening.

“Hope you blew him good, princess, because your sweet ass is going to get shot to hell out here—“

“Cain, shut up—“

“Don’t you want to think about your last good fuck before we get shot down, you little—“ Cain broke off with a snarl, shooting down two targets as Abel banked the Reliant sharply.

“You’re one to talk, I saw you—“

Cain cut him off with a laugh and another target shot down.  “What do you want, princess, a ring and a pretty white dress?  Get us out of here and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget all about—“ 

The Reliant juddered and shook suddenly, spinning out of formation. One of the wings and its engine taken out, everything out of control, Cain cursing into the comm too loudly for Abel to hear central, if they'd even noticed yet. Not that it would matter if they had, nothing to do when the main goal was getting the Sleipnir out. Twenty percent casualties had to come from somewhere.

Abel fought for control, his display flashing red with the Reliant’s injuries and Cain’s.  Abel cursed all the words he’d learned from Cain and everywhere else, pushing against the Reliant’s wild spin, trying to push them back to the Sleipnir and safety but pulled towards the little demi-moon whose gravity shadow they’d been hiding in, nothing left to do but try to brace for a crash landing.

 

* * *

 

Another small room, smaller than their bunk on the Sleipnir.  Abel stumbled in, pushed by a Colteron with a gun, boneless and woozy, no memory between being pulled out of the crashed Reliant and being pushed in here, just a hole where the last few days or hours had been.

Cain stirred in the corner, hunched over and his face bloody, whether from the crash or the Colterons Abel didn’t know, but unable to get his feet under him before the door closed again.  Abel went to him and Cain snarled, curled in the corner like a wounded animal still in his flight suit, Abel stripped to bare chest and a pair of thin, baggy pajama like pants.  Abel lowered himself against the wall next to Cain, pulling him close on the cold floor.

A florescent light and a grated hole in the tile floor.  Nothing else.  No water, no blanket, no bed.  Abel looked up at the ceiling, as if he could look for the tiny pinholes of cameras, and knew how badly Cain was hurt when he let Abel pillow his head on Abel’s lap.  Cain shifted a little, uncomfortable on the cold floor, but his breathing evened out as he lay there, and Abel tried not to move as Cain drifted into a ragged sleep.

He smoothed Cain’s hair lightly, careful not to wake him but looking for a head wound.  Cain had left a bloody streak on the white tiled floor and wall, his thigh oozing blood through a gash in his flight suit, and his breath caught when he inhaled too deeply.  Abel only remembered enough of his academy med training to make him worry.

Abel himself was mostly unmarked except for needle and adhesive marks on his arms and his chest, physical marks of his drugged interrogation all he had where his memory should have been.

They slept like that, Abel propped against the wall with Cain’s head on his lap, for long enough to get cramped in the chill.  When Cain woke up, he let Abel ease his flight suit off down to his waist to check for abdominal bleeds, but pushed away closer inspection of his bruising or his leg, so they sat next to each other in silence, facing the door, hungry and listening.

Abel lost track of time, the light unchanging and bright, sleeping fitfully until the Colterons came again, pulling Cain out when they were both sleeping.  Cain went swinging, snarling but tangled in his half flight suit, catching one of the Colterons with a fist while Abel pressed himself into the wall, terrified for himself and for Cain.  They dragged Cain out and the door was locked again.

Alone, for longer than before.  Time lost most meaning in the steady light, but it was long enough for Abel to forget how hungry he was and how long it had been since he’d last eaten, and get the jitters pacing back and forth in the tiny space.

His bare feet echoed strangely in the bare, cramped space, Cain’s smell hanging in the cold and no sound filtering in from outside.  Abel counted the tiles up and down the walls, calculated the number of tiles on each wall and the floor, the volume of the room in cubic meters and in liters of air.

Sirens sounded once or twice, distant, and the floor shook before the silence returned, and Abel wondered if he was going to be forgotten here to starve to death or wait for the Alliance to bomb the installation down around him.  He slept fitfully again, hoping Cain was alright.

He was jerked awake by sirens, loud this time, right on top of him, echoing off the tile like the room was about to launch out of a carrier.  He stood and pressed his ear to the door, hungry for the noise of running footsteps outside the door, any noise outside the bare room.  

Abel was standing there with his ear to the door when it opened, whispering sideways as Cain collapsed into the room.  Abel recoiled as the surprised Colteron stared back at him, stumbling as Cain came to enough to hook a foot behind the man’s foot and trip him into the room.  Abel pushed the Colteron away and punched him, punched him again, dropping him on top of the unprotesting Cain, and they were down all down in a tangle of limbs and curses until Abel got a gun away from the Colteron and helped Cain up.

Cain’s legs buckled out from under him as the Colteron pushed himself up again, pulling another gun from his boot, coming at Abel as Cain dragged him down, the sirens echoing in through the open door.  Abel wrapped one arm around Cain, hauling him up and pointing the gun at the Colteron.

The shot was sick and sharp, blood spattering on the white tile, and Abel dropped the gun, shaking uncontrollably.

“Gun,” Cain muttered, getting his feet under him.  Abel stared at him, not understanding.  “Give me the fucking gun,” Cain growled through gritted teeth, bracing himself against the wall and Abel to stand.  Abel got the gun he’d dropped and the Colteron’s, trying to hand both to Cain, only to have one pressed back into his hand.  Cain swung an arm around Abel’s neck, pulling Abel’s free hand around his waist, and they were out the door, Cain’s left leg dragging heavily.

The corridor was empty, silent except for the pulsing sirens.  Only one way to go.  The other doors on the corridor were closed, opaque, silent as their own had been.  

They found a monitor room, camera feeds from other interrogation rooms.  Abel helped Cain lean against a wall and went to run his hands over the desk interface, trying to find familiarity in the unreadable symbols.  He pressed something that highlighted the camera feeds, and pressed something else, hoping to unlock the doors to the rest of the installation.

Cain jerked against the wall behind him, twisting to look through the door he was propped up by, gun shots echoing down the hallway with mixed Alliance and Colteron voices.  Abel swiped at something that seemed familiar on the interface that he hoped would open the rest of the interrogation rooms, distracted as the door by Cain opened without command, a surprised Colteron stumbling back through it.  Cain shot him in the shoulder, shot going wide as Cain's bad leg gave out again with the force of the shot.  Abel ducked under the desk as shots from the hallway followed, staring out at familiar uniforms.

“We’re Alliance!  Hold your fire, we’re Alliance!”  Abel yelled, crawling out to kick away the still-living Colteron’s gun. 

The shots from the hallway stopped and a few helmeted figures advanced.  “Identify,” one of them barked.

Cain moaned from the floor.  “Callsigns Cain and Abel, ship Reliant, carrier Sleipnir,” Abel called.  “I have a man down and more Alliance prisoners back here.  I need a medic,” he begged, Cain motionless now and Abel unsure if he’d be shot if he tried to move across the doorway to him.

Two of the figures looked at each other and one nodded, then waved the squad down the hallway towards the doorway.  The Colteron made to push himself up as he realized what was happening, but was dragged away by the first wave of the squad.  Their medic pulled off his helmet and crouched over Cain as the rest swept the room and advanced towards the interrogation rooms.  A pair of helmeted fighters stayed behind and put themselves between Abel and the medic.

Cain stirred and growled at the medic’s prodding, his eyes still closed.  “Abel—“ Cain groaned, and the medic glanced over his shoulder at Abel.  The medic waved the two fighters aside and motioned Abel over.

“You Abel? Just put a hand on his shoulder so he knows you’re here,” the medic said, pulling things out of his kit.  Cain quieted at Abel’s touch, but his face still twisted in pain.  “Sometimes fighters just don’t know when to quit.”

Cain’s eyes rolled open as the medic prepped a syringe of something and laid out a roll of gauze.  “Abel,” Cain breathed, trying to glare but only managing an unfocused look.  Abel leaned in with a glance at the medic, who concentrated on his kit.  

Cain brought his hand up and twisted it in Abel’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Abel let him, too shocked to do anything until Cain lay back exhausted.  The medic jabbed Cain with the syringe and put Abel’s hand on the gauze at the injection site, Cain’s features easing with a sedative.  

The medic set to cutting off Cain’s bloody and tattered flight suit, ignoring Abel’s blush.  “He your fighter?” the medic asked conversationally.  Abel nodded, too embarrassed in the presence of the two fighters still standing over them.  “They do that sometimes,” the medic said with a shrug.

 

* * *

 

Safely back with Fleet, Abel typed his pre-briefing report peevishly, alone and confined to quarters aboard the Lazarus, the ship sent to escort the limping Sleipnir and take out the Colteron installation.  They brought his meals to quarters and told him to work on his report while command debriefed all the Alliance prisoners interrogated by the Colterons.

They said that Cain was still in hospital and recovering, but Abel paced restlessly, cut off and increasingly frustrated with how long it was taking to be debriefed, as if he were the security threat. As if he'd done something wrong, when all he'd said was that he couldn't remember anything after the crash, and now he had to type and retype everything he could remember, cut off from everything except demands for details and elaboration every time he thought he was done.

Abel glanced up from his report as the door whispered open, too early for another meal.  “Cain!” Abel said, pushing himself up from the bed to meet him.  Cain limped into the room wearing fatigues, favoring one leg as the door whispered shut. Another fighter standing escort or guard outside, stuck in a tiny room together again with no way out.

Cain limped past Abel without a word, going straight for the mattress and lowering himself onto it with a wince.  “How—how are you?” Abel asked, unsure now where they were after everything.

“Confined to quarters,” Cain snapped.  Abel shifted his weight, thinking about the prospect of being stuck with an angry or irritable Cain.  Cain jerked his head at Abel.  “Get over here.”

Abel sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, not wanting to jostle Cain, but Cain pulled him over practically on top of him.  Cain dragged Abel's face up and bit his now healed lip, starting to push Abel’s jacket off.  “Don’t worry, princess,” Cain said, wincing slightly as he adjusted Abel’s weight against him.  “Now we have plenty of time to try it the other way.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Cain**

Abel’s head stirred on his hip, breath tickling Cain’s limp cock as Abel looked up at him.  “Cain?” the blond asked, one hand curling a little tighter against Cain’s thigh.  He half opened his eyes and grunted, brushing Abel’s hair.  

“You don’t think—“ Abel started, glancing down and back up, and Cain stirred a little more, sleepy from the blow job but ready to go another round if Abel was finally getting it up again.  Second day confined to quarters and Abel was all over him but couldn’t get hard.  Not like they had anything else to do, so Cain took advantage of Abel’s desperate neediness and fucked him when he felt like.  Didn’t think about it too hard, but knew he’d be climbing the walls if he’d gotten his dick broken and stuck in a room with a horny Abel.  Couldn’t very well let Abel fuck him like he’d promised if Abel couldn’t get it up.

“What, baby?” he asked, thumbing Abel’s cheek.  He could probably get off again if Abel did most of the work.

“You don’t think they’re going to court martial us, do you?”

Fuck.  Not this again.  Cain pushed Abel off his lap and rolled over.  Another day of this and he’d get court-martialed for killing Abel.

The blond sat up behind him, pulling the blanket up.  “We didn’t do anything wrong, did we?”  Over and over this, like shooting one guy in the face was such a big fucking deal when Fleet blew them up by the thousands.

“Fuck, Abel, I don’t know.”  Bering probably wouldn’t let them get court-martialed, not with the rest of the mission left, but what if the old fuck hung Cain out to dry for getting them shot down?  He didn’t want to think about it.  “Shut the hell up about it already.”  Cain pushed his pillow under his bad leg to prop it up and knuckled at the aching scar tissue on his thigh.  Medical had closed him up, but fuck it hurt.  Made it take longer to get off, and the longer he fucked Abel the worse it hurt, but what the fuck else was he supposed to do to shut Abel up?  At least with cock in his mouth he stayed quiet for a while.  

“But what if—“ 

“Tell me about your goddamn bike again if you have to talk about something, Abel, but I swear to fuck I’ll break your teeth if you keep going about a court martial.” 

Abel didn’t respond, the sound of fabric and skin whispering together the only sound in the little room as Abel pulled his knees up.  Good.  Maybe the little princess could have a cry, get over this bullshit and they could go back to fucking like normal.  Abel took a deep breath, then another.  Calming himself down.  

Or working himself up to something.  “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” Abel asked quietly.  

Cain propped himself up on an elbow and looked over his shoulder, expecting tears and big eyes and shaking, just a little push away from backing down and maybe a good hard apology fuck.  Abel stuck his chin out defiantly, naked and vulnerable but so, so determined to stand his ground on this.  Flexed his hands on his knees like he was ready to try punching Cain again.  Cain laughed in his face and lay back down.

“That’s the way things are, princess.  Don’t like it, too fucking bad.”  

Quiet.  Good.  Cain stretched and settled to doze for a while.  He could take having his meals delivered and being left to screw all day if Abel would just shut the fuck up.  

“Can’t we just talk about it?” Abel demanded— _demanded?_ —putting a hand on Cain’s shoulder.  “Can’t we be—“

Cain growled, throwing Abel’s hand off him and rolling over slower than he would have liked.  Fucking gimp leg.  He pushed himself sitting and into Abel’s face, who had the good sense to cringe away.  “Can we be what, princess?  We need to have a talk about your feelings?” he asked, leaning into Abel’s space.  He put a hand on Abel’s chest, ignoring the pain in his leg as he moved to keep himself from just falling on top of Abel.  He was trying to look mean, not crippled.  “What, are we friends now?” he asked.  

Something flickered over Abel’s face, the defiance gone now.  “Aren’t we?” Abel asked.

Cain laughed.  Laughed and stretched out on his stomach, if that’s all this was about.  Abel finally shut up and let him sleep.

 

* * *

 

They dragged Cain out for checkups and interrogations the next couple of days, command prodding at what he’d told the Colterans and doctors prodding at his bad leg.  He was surly for the first and pissed off for the second, but he’d have rather let medical cut his leg open again than go back in that little room with Abel crawling up the walls.  

Abel stopped guiltily in mid-pace as Cain limped in the door.  They’d had a talk that morning about pacing with Cain’s hand on Abel’s throat.  

“Still no,” Cain snapped to Abel’s unasked questions: _Did they say anything?  Did they ask about me?  Are we getting out?_   Every goddamn time they pulled Cain out.  He let Abel help him ease down onto the mattress, if only to make Abel sit the fuck down and stop wearing a hole in the floor.

He tapped out a smoke, lit it and passed it to Abel, tapped out and lit another one for himself.  Smoking looked good on Abel once he’d gotten over coughing and feeling sick the first few times, and it gave them something to do besides talk about goddamn feelings.  Fuck, he wished command would just take Abel’s word that he didn’t remember anything besides that cell, because Cain sure as fuck would have heard about it by now.  Abel wouldn’t shut up with his little fairy nightmares about the guy he’d shot, so why the fuck would he keep the interrogation to himself if he remembered it?  

But Abel came back from talking to command all shaky and pale and didn’t talk about that, or why he couldn’t get it up anymore, so maybe he could keep his mouth shut about something.

Abel fidgeted with his cigarette, fussing it straight where it had gotten crushed in the pack and taking quick puffs like he was afraid of getting caught.  He smoked too fast, holding the cigarette between his first and middle finger like a girl instead of cupped in his hand like Cain had told him.  

Abel had been such a little bitch about learning to smoke in the first place, and it gave Cain a reason to watch Abel’s mouth, so he didn’t want to give Abel an excuse to balk by telling him to man up and stop smoking like a fairy.  No reason to spend however long locked up with a sulky, uncooperative navigator.  Not that Abel didn’t like smoking, once he stopped turning green from it.  He liked getting bullied, once he shut up about it.

Abel shifted, jostling Cain a little as he stretched his skinny legs out, crossing his ankles.  He jiggled one foot on top of the other, shaking the mattress.  Cain put a hand on his knee to hold it in place.

“Don’t you ever fucking stop?” Cain asked.  

“What?” Abel asked, jerked back from some place in his head.

“Thinking so hard.  Don’t you ever stop?”  A bottle of booze and Abel’s limp dick were the only things keeping this from being a great vacation, and Cain couldn’t do jack shit about either.  That and why Bering was leaving them to rot for so long.

“Uh,” Abel said.  Cain pushed his shoulder.  Fucking over-educated navigators.  “I guess not,” Abel said, brushing spilled ash off the blanket.  “Don’t you ever”—fuck, here it came, more feelings—“don’t you ever get scared?  About why they’ve left us so long?” Abel asked.  

 _Yes_.  Cain tapped his cigarette into the cup he’d been using as an ash tray.  “No.  What am I, a navigator?”   

Abel sighed and made his little annoyed face, the one where he stuck his lower lip out and tried to make like he was squaring his jaw instead of just pouting.  “Were you raised by wolves?  Do you ever stop being a jerk?” 

“No wolves in the colonies, baby,” Cain said, tilting his head back against the wall.  Maybe Bering would just order up a firing squad and put him out of his misery.

“Have you thought about—“ Abel finished his smoke, reaching over Cain to get the ash cup.  He thought about grabbing Abel by the hair and fucking him, or shaking him until he shut up.  Tell him he didn’t give a fuck about what Abel wanted.  Something to get them out of all this talk about feelings.  Abel sat back up and looked sideways at Cain.  Swallowed.  “Did you ask for a transfer?”

Cain took a long drag of his smoke, watching Abel.  Bad tobacco, harsh and too damp.  “Wasn’t planning on it.  Should I?”  What the fuck was this about?

“No,” Abel said, and stopped.  Jiggled his foot and fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket.  

“You want a transfer, princess?” Cain asked, and tapped another smoke out of the pack.  Like fuck Abel would get the transfer, but it would look bad if he put in for it and Bering had to maneuver around Cook to have it denied.  Better to straighten Abel out himself than have to explain why another one of his navigators had gotten his panties in a twist.  “You don’t get to change your mind.  That’s not how this works.”  

He forgot that sometimes, forgot that for as hot shit as Abel flew he hadn’t been on station long before they got into this fucking Sleipnir mess and didn’t know jack shit about dealing with fighters.  Whoever Abel’s fuckup last fighter had been, the moron hadn’t taught him a goddamn thing.  If Cain ever figured out who the bastard was, he’d thank him for keeping his dick to himself and then punch him in the mouth for not teaching Abel how to take orders.  Cain used the cherry of his cigarette to light the new one for Abel and passed it over, just to see Abel put something in his mouth again.  

Abel shook his head, pushing Cain’s hand away, not meeting his eye.  Cain shrugged and ground the new smoke out carefully, putting it away for later.  No telling how long they’d be in here and how many more packs he could talk the guards into giving him.  “Don’t say I never gave you nothing, princess.”

“You don’t want a new navigator?” Abel asked again, like he hadn’t heard the first time.  “Since I got us shot down?”  That.  He’d been so fucking angry when they’d launched that he couldn’t hardly see his shots, angry at Abel for going around looking like he’d gotten the shit beaten out of him, hiding like a kicked dog and everyone looking at Cain like he’d done it, angry at the fairy lead navigator for trying to talk Abel into a transfer, angry at himself for letting Abel get out from under his thumb.  

But did he want a new navigator?  If Bering said so.  Cain finished his cigarette and ground it out.  “Only if your mouth keeps flapping and your dick stays limp.”  

Abel flushed, drawing his knees up to his chest.  “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

Cain stared.  “Are you fucking kidding?”  Only thing harder to hide than a stiff cock in a tight flight suit was a limp dick when someone’s trying to blow you.  Like there was any way he couldn’t notice.  

“I thought—when I saw you with—“  Abel stopped, frowned at the mattress.  Tried to fuss a wrinkle of the sheet straight.  “I thought you were getting tired of me.”  

“You’d rather get fucked without getting off than get a transfer?”  Such a slut.  Who was so desperate to get it up the ass that they didn’t even want to get off from it?  

Abel shrugged, face hot, still not looking him in the eye.  “I thought, when I saw you with that other fighter, you wanted someone who didn’t . . . didn’t enjoy it.”  Thought Cain would rather rape Deimos than fuck a willing Abel, is what he meant.  What the fuck did Abel think he’d seen?  

Cain reached out to put his hand on the back of Abel’s neck, but the blond flinched away.  Abel ducked his head and scooted himself into the corner, back pressed into it and knees up between them.  Had he finally managed to get Abel scared of him?  Cain couldn’t follow that around, whether Abel was scared that Cain got off on rape or scared that he wouldn’t get fucked anymore if he enjoyed it too much.  Fucking repressed navigators and all their feelings.  

“Abel.  Who else I fuck and why is none of your damn business.”  

Abel looked at him then, still blushing but jaw set hard.  Only a little pouty-lipped.  “You seem to think it’s your business who I sleep with.  We have to trust each other if we’re going to be able to work together.”

“We’re not friends, Abel.  I’ll fuck you and whoever else I want, when I want.  And you’ll suck it up and like it.”

“No.”

“No?  This isn’t a negotiation, princess.”

Abel shook his head, glancing away and then back.  Crossed his arms over his chest but kept his knees up between them.  Huddled in on himself like Cain was going to come after him.  “If you don’t trust me and you don’t want me, ask for a transfer.  I won’t fly for you if you don’t trust me.”  What the fuck did trust have to do with it?  Cain pushed himself kneeling and grabbed Abel by the back of the neck.  Abel leaned as far into the corner as he could, but didn’t fight him.  He’d do it; Cain had fucked him long enough to tell the difference between stubborn and this determination to get thrown in the brig rather than have his feelings hurt by fuck knew what.

Fuck it.  Abel had the cards on this one; Cain couldn’t very well sit in the Reliant with him and make him fly.  If all it took was a little lie to get them out of this, he could do that.  He’d lied to Abel for Bering, would keep lying to him as long as command told him to.  “You want trust, princess?  Have it your way.”  What difference did one more lie make, if it got them back to fucking like normal?  “You keep flying for me and I won’t fuck anyone else.  You happy?”

“You promise?” Abel asked, eyebrows raised.  Surprised, or skeptical, or happy, Cain couldn’t tell.  Like he couldn’t keep a promise if he wanted to.  

“I fucking promise.  You want a ring and a honeymoon too?”  Cain put a hand on the wall next to Abel and leveraged himself back to sitting where he’d been.  Lit another cigarette, shaking the almost-empty lighter to get more than a spark.  Sat and smoked and didn’t care if Abel believed him or not.  

They sat in silence like that for a while, Abel pressed into the corner and Cain smoking, until Abel uncurled himself and crawled over to sit next to Cain.  Didn’t say anything, but held his hand out for a cigarette.  Cain gave him one and let him light it himself.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Cain**  

Abel finally started to lighten up after that.  Even made a weak joke about going on vacation somewhere nicer next year since the food here was so bad.  Cain let him scoot closer when they were done with dinner and didn’t push Abel away when he put a warm hand on Cain’s bad leg.  If they’d had a pack of cards he’d have taught Abel something useful—all that math they made the navigators learn would be good for card-counting if they ever got shore leave again.   

Four days of too much fucking and not enough showers and the both smelled like sex and sweat and cigarettes, but Cain didn’t mind so much because it meant Abel smelled less like Fleet detergent now.  Not so clean, more fuckable, like a real person instead of some stuck up bitchy little navigator.  

They stripped for bed, and Cain managed to get his jacket and shirt off himself, but stopped with his pants half down his ass, his bad leg too stiff from sitting all fucking day to bend his knee and get them the rest of the way off.  Already naked, Abel just watched with a half smile, the little shit, until Cain growled at him and Abel helped him shimmy out of his pants.  

Helped that the little bastard took his time running hands and mouth over Cain’s stomach and thighs while he did it.  A little guilty, like he thought he had something to apologize for.  Cain wouldn’t argue that one with him.  A fucking promise.  Clothes thrown across the room, Cain lay back and tried to ignore his aching thigh with Abel kneeling between his knees.  He could bite the bullet and let Abel suck him off, if that’s what it took for them to kiss and make up.  

The pain in his thigh kept him from getting all the way hard right away, but Abel had him up with just a few strokes and a little shy smile before he brought his mouth down.  Fuck, Abel just kept getting better at giving head, hands and mouth working in time with little peeks up at Cain to make sure he was doing it right.  Bold and needy, still looking for approval even when he had Cain gasping like a virgin and fuck was _that_ a long time ago.  

Abel’s mouth moved to suck his thigh and Cain was suddenly aware of only one hand were there had been two.  He brought his head up off the pillow to watch Abel, eyes caught for a second by blond hair trailing across his thigh.  Abel pumped him slow, distracted by something, and Cain followed the line of his other arm down to where Abel stroked himself, half hard and shocked into twitching harder when he looked up and caught Cain watching him.  

Now or never.  He could keep some of his promises.  Cain smirked and dragged Abel’s other hand up from his cock, taking the blond’s fingers in his mouth with just a little bite.  Abel watched him with a round, surprised little mouth, still touching himself, but slow, following Cain with his eyes.  Cain slicked his fingers good, rolling his tongue over the tip of Abel’s middle finger before pushing his hand down.  

He helped line up Abel’s fingers against his ass, but the little fairy didn’t need help with that, had probably been doing it to himself for years before he found Cain to do it for him.  Cain pulled his knees up and concentrated on the pain in his bad leg to avoid thinking about the last time he’d done this.  Abel’s finger teased and stroked just long enough to make him hiss, and then—fuck, Abel took his time, pushing one finger in slow and gentle like Cain was some virgin navigator taking it up the ass the first time.  

Maybe Abel had done this before, fucking that pansy Keeler or some other nancy navigator when he’d been hiding out.  Cain pushed the thought away, even though it made him harder to think about getting sucked off while he watched Abel fuck someone else, maybe Deimos—

Abel leaned over him just a little now, eyes big and cock hard as he knelt between Cain’s legs and watched his face.  The blond bent toward him, to kiss or cuddle.  Cain put a hand on his shoulder to push him away until he realized Abel was rearranging himself to bring his mouth back down to Cain’s cock.  That was okay.  Cain propped himself up on elbows, watching Abel tease with his mouth as he slipped another finger in.  

He almost fucking lost it when Abel curled both fingers up, stroking his prostate from the inside and taking his cock as deep as possible, tongue flicking on the way back up.  Abel’s fingers still caressing, getting Cain harder than he could remember, but last time he’d been fucked it wasn’t anything like this.  He was as close to coming as he’d ever been with someone inside him, and he thought about just holding Abel’s head there, fuck his sweet mouth and put the rest off for another time, especially with Abel’s tongue rolling over the head of his cock like that—

Abel’s mouth was suddenly gone and his hands still, and Cain realized he must have made a noise.  Abel pulled his wet fingers out.  He opened his mouth to say something, making a little worried face.  Cain growled and pulled Abel down to kiss, pushing himself up on one hand and fucking Abel’s mouth with his tongue as hard as he wanted to fuck him with his cock right now.  Abel’s cock brushed his ass and the little princess started back.  

Was _that_ all?  Thought he could hurt Cain with a couple of _fingers_?  Cain snickered at the thought and licked his palm, reaching down to get Abel good and slick.  Might as well do this now, Abel wouldn’t last long anyway with how long it had been since he’d gotten off, and then Cain could roll him over and show him how it was done.  Abel watched his hand work, mouth open like he still wasn’t quite sure what was going on.  He scooted forward when Cain put a hand on his ass, though, hot and eager and skittish, biting his lip as his cock nudged up against Cain’s entrance.  

Cain thought he might not have the stones to do it, but then Abel reached down between them and steadied himself in.  And fuck it hurt, making Cain wince and get a little soft, but not as bad as last time and Cain thought Abel might not have done this before after all.  Not from the way he stopped with only the tip in, breath ragged and mouth open like he was going to come right then.  

That got Cain hard again, the thought of popping Abel’s cherry and now getting to watch him fuck someone for the first time, even if that someone had to be him.  Abel was hot inside him and Cain couldn’t tell if it was Abel’s heartbeat or his he could feel pulsing, uncomfortably tight and full even with Abel barely in him.  

Abel put a hand to either side of Cain and leaned in, angling against Cain’s prostrate again as he eased in and pulled back out.  Cain lay further back on his elbows.  Didn’t want fucking to turn into cuddling.  Not when he could watch Abel try to control his breathing and close his eyes when he pushed all the way in, buried balls deep and just rocking there.  Blushing, blond hair over his eyes as he dropped his head a little.  Cain pushed the hair out of Abel’s face so he could watch Abel chew his lip.  

Cain shifted under Abel, clenching his ass to try to make it a little more comfortable with Abel all the way inside him now.  Abel gasped and shuddered, so he did it again, squeezing Abel into him.  Never did that before.  All his other fucks had been about getting the other guy off as fast and hard as possible and his navigators had always been too repressed or naive to think to do it.  He raked his nails down Abel’s back and over his ass, running his fingers down as far as he could and back up over Abel’s tailbone, frustrated he couldn’t reach quite far enough to fuck Abel with a finger or two and remind him who was in charge, but at least it got Abel moving again.  

He let Abel lean into him all the way this time, cupping Abel’s ass as the blond rocked against him, head on Cain’s shoulder.  Abel turned his head into Cain’s neck, moaning, and Cain thought he’d have to push him away again, but forgot about it when Abel nipped at his neck and put a hand down to stroke Cain’s cock between them.  

And fuck was that good, but too slow, making him grind his teeth to keep from begging for it, not from Abel, not ever.  Next time, when his leg didn’t hurt so fucking bad, he’d have to do this straddling Abel, ride him fast and rough instead of this slow and snuggly bullshit, push Abel hard and show him who was fucking who.

Next time?  Fuck, all he needed was a good bite on the shoulder and he’d be begging for it up the ass like Abel.  Heh.  Abel? More biting next time.  Abel would fucking love that, blush like hell and get all embarrassed.  Cain thrust up into Abel’s hand, forgetting for a second that it meant pushing himself back down on Abel’s cock if he wanted to thrust up again.  He did it anyway, Abel’s knuckles grinding into his stomach, hand tight and rougher now.  He fisted a hand in Abel’s hair and pulled the blond head to the side, licking Abel’s neck before teasing his soft earlobe and sticking his tongue in Abel’s ear.    

That got Abel thrusting faster, and the little blond pulled back against Cain’s hand in his hair to nip at his lip, teasing now just out of reach.  Cain growled and tried to pull him back, but Abel had the leverage and kept himself from being pulled down, fucking him in short, quick thrusts.  Abel pushed himself almost sitting, both hands pulling Cain up by the hips, leaving his cock to just bounce there stupidly, hard and neglected and leaking.  Cain tried to rearrange them, tried to leverage himself up, but between his bad leg and the angle just ended up helping Abel push deeper and spread his legs wider, ass off the mattress and weight all back on his elbows now, back arched and pushing himself up on his toes to keep up with Abel’s more frantic pace.  

Abel breathed raggedly, fingers digging into Cain’s thighs like he was afraid Cain might try to get away.  Which he might just fucking do if this took much longer, throw Abel down and fuck _him_ into the floor without getting _him_ off, but got distracted with watching Abel lick his hand and wrap fingers around his cock again.  And it was just too distracting to get off with Abel fucking him harder and harder, so Cain wrapped one leg around Abel’s waist and held him there, Abel still managing to push in and out of him, but shallow and fast now.  

It was watching Abel’s mouth that got him off, eyes closed and biting his lip like he was trying to make it last longer but might not make it, and Cain was coming into Abel’s hand suddenly.  Hot and shaky, the first time he’d ever come with someone inside him, Abel’s hand slick and using his come to slide up and down his cock and dragging ragged gasps and spasms out of him.

It was watching Abel’s mouth and definitely not feeling Abel come inside him that did it.  Abel shuddered and moaned, cock swelling inside him and then there was hot pressure, the little bastard still sliding in and out, but weaker and just dragging it out like he was trying to memorize how it felt in case it didn’t happen again.  

Cain shivered without meaning to when Abel finally pulled out of him, hot and slick and sensitive all over.  Abel collapsed on his chest, breathing hard and nuzzling his collarbone.   Cain couldn’t decide if he’d rather this slack, pansy navigator feeling of cuddling and leaking someone else’s come instead of being sore, raw and pissed like he’d expected, like it had been every other time.  At least then he didn’t have to deal with anyone thinking he’d enjoyed it, but Abel probably wouldn’t let this get around if he knew what was good for him.  

Abel curled into him, putting just a little too much weight on his bad leg.  Cain pushed him off with a sharp hiss, his ass and thighs and hips sore from not doing this in a while.  Abel recoiled like he’d been slapped, but Cain pulled him back and put an arm around Abel as he lay back down.  Just needed to get his fucking gimp leg better and get them both out of this tiny room and things could go back to normal.

“Cain?” Abel asked.  He didn’t say anything, maybe let Abel think he had fallen asleep already so they wouldn’t have to talk about it.  “Did I hurt you?  Have you done that before?”  

Cain snorted.  Abel could worry about anything, including whether or not they guy whose come he’d just wiped off his hand had enjoyed it.  “I’m not a pansy navigator, it didn’t hurt,” Cain said, and it came out a little less sharp than he’d meant it to.  

“Had you ever done it before?” Abel asked hopefully, looking up from where his cheek was pressed to Cain’s chest.

“Yeah.  Go to sleep.”

“Oh.”  Abel said it so soft he almost missed it, but the disappointment was there.  What had he expected, some fairy tale where they popped each other’s cherries and fell in love and lived happily ever after?  Abel turned his face down and tucked an arm around Cain’s chest.  

Cain put a hand on Abel’s hair and thought about telling him it was the first time he’d done because he wanted to and not because he had to, or gotten off from it, but that didn’t seem like it would mean as much as Abel wanted it to, so he kept his mouth shut and let Abel curl into him.  Didn’t think about it too hard until he realized Abel was asleep and he was still awake, staring at the ceiling.

They had just gotten dressed in the morning when some skinny navigator Abel knew brought them orders from command, and things were not back to normal.


	9. Chapter 9

**Cain**

A fucking transfer.  Back on the repaired Sleipnir, but new assignments.  They walked from command to the elevator together in silence, just like the first time.  Abel fidgeted and Cain watched him.  Didn’t have anything to say.  Abel was just a navigator, there were plenty of other ones.  He’d been a good fuck, but any navigator could learn to suck cock well enough.  All that academy training put to good use.

Abel wasn’t the right navigator, at least according to Bering, and even if he was, he’d been compromised because Cain had fucked up and got them shot down.  Bering didn’t want to risk a navigator who’d had his head screwed with by the enemy, so it didn’t matter if Cain argued Abel still had potential, better than the last two, because what the fuck did he know.  Cook had argued to keep them together, going back and forth for five days trying to argue that Abel wasn’t too fucked in the head to fly, and Cain never thought he’d have agreed with central navigation about anything.  But Bering put his foot down.

So Abel got a transfer to central and Cain got another navigator.  Simple.

Abel reached over to put his hand on Cain’s arm as the lift slowed.  Different floors, different rooms.  Cain brushed his hand away and reached past him to press the hold, leaning into Abel’s space to do it.  Abel swallowed.  “Will we—will I see you around?” Abel asked, looking sick and miserable. 

Cain ran his thumb over Abel’s mouth.  Kissed him, a little longer than he meant to.  Let the doors open and left Abel there in the lift, hugging one arm to himself.  “See you later, princess,” Cain said over his shoulder, and went to find his new navigator. 

He got Laius’ navigator, Phobos or Phallus or some pansy name, who thought too well of himself and pouted when Cain recognized him as the moron Abel had punched in the mouth.  Phobos got off on getting pounded just like any other navigator, though, and Cain fucked him hard so he’d remember just who the faggot was.  Not enough spine to be worth fucking more than once, though, and he wouldn’t last long once Bering realized what a waste he was.

The first time Cain ran into Abel, he was sitting at mess with Keeler the day after the transfer.  Side by side, heads bent together.  Couldn’t miss them, Abel drawing on a tablet and gesturing, excited about his damn bike or new flight plans or something stupid.  One of Keeler’s hands missing under the table.  Right there in public.  

They were fucking, had to be from how close they sat and how Phobos bitched about it, and Cain wondered who took it up the ass between the two of them.  Probably took turns talking about feelings and petting each others’ hair instead of fucking.  Cain got his tray and walked past them, bumping Abel’s shoulder and making him spill his drink onto Keeler’s lap.  

Didn’t take Abel long to find a rebound, but what the fuck did Cain care.  Not his navigator anymore.  Abel could fuck who he wanted and Cain didn’t have to keep his promise, so it worked out for everybody.  Didn’t mean Cain had to like it, watching Abel trail that long-haired fairy around and steal glances at Cain like he was ready to get down on his knees for either of them, right there in the cafeteria.  Such a slut.  

Cain ran into Keeler once in a crowded corridor off central on his way to see Bering.  Keeler watched him with a pinched face as they got closer, a stick jammed too far up his ass.  Cain almost asked him how he liked sloppy seconds.  Or if he appreciated having Abel good and stretched out.  Or whose name Abel moaned in bed.  Cain turned towards Bering’s office just as they came even, though, and settled for just sneering at the fairy.  He was busy and didn’t care who Abel bent over for now.  Keeler made a disgusted face and Cain jerked off in the shower that night thinking about Abel with his mouth wrapped around someone else’s cock.

_  
_

* * *

 

They fucked once; Cain was out prowling for Phobos to re-run diagnostics the little shit had fucked up.  Found him and Abel in the cafeteria sniping at each other in the middle of a little group of navigators.  He sent Phobos scurrying off—idiot knew how to take orders, at least—and the coffeeklastch broke up, the other navigators sidling off to leave Abel there holding a paper cup and looking like he’d been punched in the gut.  Cain was going to leave, disgusted with Abel’s plain neediness and want, worse than Deimos.  But Abel hurried after him, brushing fingers against his arm as Cain stalked off to the lift.  

Empty, except for the two of them.  Abel chewed his lip and punched the button for his level without saying anything.  Cain walked Abel back against the wall of the lift, thumbing his scar.  Still there, but starting to fade.  Abel tried to lean into him and kiss, but Cain held him back against the wall by the shoulder, watching him and making sure he wanted it bad enough.  

Abel’s new room was small, just big enough for one narrow bed and room to turn around.  Cain pushed him down and bent him over without a word, turned on by Abel’s desperation to get them both out of their clothes.  It was fast and hard, neither of them lasting very long.  He didn’t bother to reach around and make sure Abel got off; didn’t know or care if the little blond was even hard until Abel brought a hand up and jerked himself off while Cain fucked him.  

Abel tucked against him afterwards, trying to lay against his chest.  Cain pushed him off, getting his boots while Abel stared.  The room smelled like sex and some other navigator, whoever else Abel had fucked last, and Cain had shit to do.  Abel caught his wrist as he turned to leave.  

“Cain—?” the little blond asked, knees pulled up against his chest, looking up at him from the narrow bed.  Cain caught him by the chin and they kissed, deep, until Cain pulled back and bit Abel’s lip hard enough to open up his scar again.  He left Abel sitting there in the dark with a hand pressed to his bloody mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Cain**

Phobos finally washed out and Bering got Cain reassigned again.  Praxis’ navigator, skinny and scared shitless, and Cain thought Praxis must be a lot meaner in bed than he looked from the way Ethos shook and flinched away every time Cain glanced at him.  Little shit couldn’t get it up no matter what Cain did, and Cain couldn’t get into the thought of sucking off someone with hiccups and snot running down his face from crying so hard.  Couldn’t see the point in fucking someone already terrified enough to do what he was told, so he mostly ignored Ethos except to drag him around in front of Praxis and Abel.  That was okay.  Praxis looked like he wanted to get his ass kicked again, but kept his distance, and Abel just stared.  

Abel and Ethos walked together sometimes and avoided looking at Cain, in mess, and once he saw them talking in a side hallway of command with Abel’s arm around Ethos’ shoulders.  Heads together, Abel’s eyes going wide when he glanced over his shoulder to see Cain watching them.  Cain started down the corridor after them, but Abel hurried them away and pulled Ethos into one of the navigation labs, one where fighters weren’t allowed, and Cain punched the wall instead.

Cain and Ethos had a talk after that, with Ethos pressed up against a wall on his tip toes, but the little shit swore up and down that they weren’t fucking, and Cain figured he was probably too terrified to lie to his face about it.  Didn’t mean he liked it, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to find Abel and tell him to keep his fucking hands off Cain’s navigator.  Abel never had been good at doing what he was told.

Cain got more pissed off the longer it took to find Abel; Ethos was skittish and scarce, so something was up.  Cain marched Ethos to every meal and kept him under his thumb until Abel showed up with Keeler one morning.  Abel watched them both while he got two cups of coffee, handing one off to Keeler with a quiet word.  Cain watched Abel, aware of Ethos hunching his shoulders like a kicked dog next to him, but didn’t really give a shit.  

Abel came up to their table, looking at Ethos instead of Cain.  Set his coffee cup down.  “Keeler wants to talk to you,” Abel said quietly, startling a look from the other navigator.  Cain smirked at Abel when Ethos looked to him for permission.  Let the scared little shit run off with a nod, watching Abel finally look at him.  

“We need to talk,” Abel said.  Cain snorted and got up, bumping Abel as he brushed past.  Not how he’d have put it, but if it kept Abel off his guard to think he was in charge, that was fine.  Cain led them out of the cafeteria and down the quiet side corridor Laius and Planchet had dragged Abel into.  Just a friendly reminder.

“Cain,” Abel demanded, voice strained behind him.  He was just turning to sneer at Abel over his shoulder when Abel’s fist caught him in the jaw, staggering him against the wall.  

Abel backed off, out of arm’s reach but not too far away if Cain pushed himself off the wall hard enough.  He could tackle the little bastard and beat the shit out of him— 

“You’re a rapist,” Abel said, voice quiet but even.  Just stood there, fists balled at his sides.  Cocky little shit, Cain gave him that.

Cain snorted and licked his bruising lip.  “I don’t remember hearing a no when you were getting your ass pounded last time, princess.  Go whine to your new girlfriend if you got your feelings hurt.”

“I didn’t mean me.  We got Ethos transferred.  He’s too scared to fly for you.”  Cain launched himself at Abel then, snarling and hauling the skinny little shit up by his jacket collar.  He didn’t need to rape anyone, and if Ethos couldn’t appreciate a little groping, that was Praxis’ fault, not Cain’s.  He bounced Abel backwards into the wall once, just once.  Bering would be pissed enough to hear Cain had lost another navigator without bailing him out of brig for putting Cook’s favorite in the hospital.  

Abel had the gall to look him in the eye, level and even like he was still going to tell Cain off.  

“If you were a fighter,” Cain said, tightening his grip on Abel’s jacket, “I’d kill you.”  Cain could feel Abel tense, ready to fight back and knowing he was going to lose.  He’d put up a good effort, maybe even get a few punches in, but Cain had reach and experience and meanness on his side.  

Abel probably fought like he fucked, all emotion and goddamn feelings and thinking about it too much.  

Cain shook Abel to clear his own head.  “You’re just a nosy, jealous slut who doesn’t know how to take orders,” he said, bringing his mouth close to Abel’s ear.  Said it soft and low so Abel would know Cain had himself under control, didn’t need to yell or hurt to keep any navigator under his thumb.  “So you’re going to get down on your knees and I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth until you remember exactly what you’re good for.”   Cain leaned into him so he could feel Abel get hard at the thought.  

Except that he didn’t.

“No,” Abel said, surprising them both.  “I’m not your—“ _bitch_ , he almost said, lifting his chin and swallowing back a little doubt, Cain could see it, “—navigator, and you can’t push me around anymore.  Cook put in a request to have you grounded.  You’re not getting another navigator.”  

Cain stared at him.  Bering would never let it happen, not when they still didn’t have the right navigator.  “You jealous, Abel?” he asked, recovering.  “I never touched that little shit after he cried the first time.  You don’t want me to have another navigator so I’d come back and forget about you fucking Keeler?”

Abel pushed him back with both hands at that, and he stumbled once, surprised that Abel had the balls to do it.  “Would you just drop it, Cain?” Abel snapped, backing him into the wall with a hand on his chest.  “It’s never been about that, and I never slept with anyone but you, _still_ haven’t slept with anyone but you because you’re a psycho and I’m an idiot, which is more than you can say, on our _bed_ and with _Phobos_ , you have no _right_ —“  Abel heaved a ragged breath, and another.  Calming himself down.  Or working himself up to something.  “I thought you trusted me.”

What the fuck did trust have to do with it?  Fucking someone didn’t make you friends.  You fucked someone, or you got fucked, and it was just the way things were and trust didn’t have anything to do with it.

Abel’s hand curled and uncurled on Cain’s chest, watching him with a little frown.  Vulnerable and close, he’d never see it coming if Cain just decked him now.  So, so determined.  And so disappointed.  All Cain could hear was Abel’s breathing and his soft little “Oh” that last night confined to quarters.  He watched Abel’s mouth, lips pale and pressed together but a little pouty.  Scar still open.

Cain grabbed him by the chin and kissed him, letting Abel finish being surprised before teasing his mouth open with his tongue.  Abel was hot and open and sweet, always putting too much sugar in his coffee, one of his hands going up to Cain’s shoulder.

To push away.  

Abel stumbled back, putting his back to the opposite wall of the corridor.  They stood there staring at each other, Abel looking more shocked by the kiss than he had by the threat.  “What’s wrong with you?” Abel asked.  “Sex doesn’t solve everything.”  He frowned at Cain with his face half turned away, watching him sideways like he wanted to leave but didn’t want to turn his back on Cain.  

Cain stared at him and didn’t know how to fix this.  Fear and need, sex and pain, that he knew how to use, and it wasn’t working on Abel any more.  Abel was scared, scared of him, scared of something besides getting the shit kicked out of him or being fucked raw and senseless and Cain couldn’t figure out what it was.  Wound tight and shying away from eye contact but standing his ground.  Abel wouldn’t get pushed into bed again, even if he sucked his bottom lip like he did when he was thinking about sex, Cain could tell that.  But here he was, all worked up over trust and who Cain fucked and who the hell knew what else, wanting something.  

Abel shook his head and turned away, an unreadable look on his face.  Maybe disgust, maybe pity, maybe longing, Cain couldn’t tell and didn’t want to see any of it.  “I never fucked him, Abel,” Cain called after him.  “I stopped when that little shit started crying, you ask him that.”  Abel just kept walking, didn’t even break his stride, just left Cain there alone in the empty corridor.  

Fuck.


	11. Chapter 11

**Cain**

He spent the next few days in training, nothing to do besides jump whichever way Bering and the shrinks evaluating him for reassignment said to.  That and get his ass kicked in boxing and simulation and every other damn thing.  Fucking gimp leg was getting stronger, but he was still too slow, slow and angry and distracted.  Worse than being confined to quarters, since he only had Deimos to screw and had to deal with every moron fresh out of basic who thought he was hot shit wanting to pick a fight now that Cain was at the bottom of the rankings again.

He ate alone, too pissed to avoid picking fights he’d just lose, surly and impatient waiting to hear what the fuck Bering was going to do with him.  Cain frowned at the table and picked at his dinner.  Didn’t think about the stupid shit he shouldn’t have done that got him here, since things were the way they were and he couldn’t change any of it now.  

He was jerked out it by the sound of a tray being put down across from him.  

Abel.  The last person he wanted to see right now, looking tidy and blank, face carefully neutral.  “What the fuck do you want?” Cain asked, putting as much sneer in it as he could. 

Abel pursed his lips.  “Can I sit?  I thought we should talk.”  

Cain laughed and leaned back in his chair.  Turned his head and brought his jaw up towards Abel.  “You want to talk like last time, princess?  Here you go, give you an easy target.  You want to kick me in the gut too?”

“Do you have to make everything so difficult?” Abel asked, sliding into the chair opposite without waiting for an answer.  Cain watched him, not hungry now but unwilling to turn tail and run like Abel had.  Waited.  Abel pushed some noodles around with his fork, not looking up.  Cain stared down a couple of navigators watching from across the cafeteria.  There’d be gossip all over before tomorrow morning.  Like fuck he’d come out of this looking like a coward, whipped by his old navigator.  

“I’m sorry I punched you,” Abel said, glancing up and back down.  “Ethos said you apologized to him.”  

Fuck.  Cain frowned at the floor.  He’d had too much to drink that night, and thought Ethos was Abel, but he didn’t want to admit he’d been so stupidly drunk that all the skinny blond navigators looked alike.  Didn’t really want to admit he’d tried to apologize to Abel, either.  

“Fuck your apologies,” Cain said instead.  “I’d never have gotten grounded if you kept your damn nose out of my business.”

Abel ignored that, just kept pushing around his noodles and went on like Cain hadn’t said anything.  “I heard you passed your psych eval,” he said.  “Cook thinks Bering pulled some strings to have you passed.”

“The fuck he did.”  And he hadn’t—Cain could talk his way through any eval or he’d never made it out of the colonies in the first place.  He didn’t need to suck cock for Bering or anyone else to get where he was.  “I never fucked anyone who didn’t want it and Bering knows I’m the best.  So you and Cook can go fuck each other.”

Abel shrugged, letting that roll off him.  He took a dainty little sip of his water.  Cain wondered if he still smoked; he didn’t smell like it.  Just clean, plain detergent, like any other navigator.  Could have been anyone, like they’d never met or fucked.  “Cook thinks you’re dangerous,” Abel said to his plate.  “He’s going to protest your reassignment unless someone volunteers.” 

Cain laughed at that, the worst fucking news he’d had all week.  Kiss of death.  None of the navigators would volunteer for him unless it was some brain-dead academy washout no one else would take, and he might as well shoot himself in the head if it came to that.  Shot down, five navigators in less than a year.  Who the fuck would sign up for that?  If Bering was feeling generous, Cain might have gotten a sweet gig as an instructor in basic, scoping out every new piece of ass Fleet recruited.  If Cook got his way Cain would be lucky to get busted down to scrubbing floors for the rest of his enlistment and a one way ticket back to the colonies at the end, crawling back to that shithole where his sister lived.    

“I could put in for a transfer,” Abel said, almost a question.  

“Where?  Back to earth, so you can get a soft desk assignment?”  Cain was so fucking sick of this, sick of looking at Abel, sick of being treated like an animal by the navigators and a fuckup by the fighters without getting his nose rubbed in it by Abel, who didn’t even have the balls to look him in the eye. 

Abel blushed, the coward.  Good.  Make sure he knew what Cain thought of him, all this sneaking around with gossip and transfers and bullshit.  “I want to go back to active duty,” Abel said with a shrug.  “Bering doesn’t want me to fly, Cook doesn’t want you to fly.  We used to be a good team.  We could be a good team if you wanted to make it work.”  

Cain frowned and almost left then, but the weight of too many people watching kept him pinned there.  He didn’t have anything to run from.  

Abel just knew him too well, he knew Abel too well, and it was never supposed to be that way.  He followed Abel’s thinking this time—if Bering and Cook both thought they were getting something out of the deal, Cain and Abel might get put back on active duty again.  Together.  

But Cain didn’t need Abel to get him out of this, didn’t need Abel to take out that Colteron, didn’t need him now.  Cain had been almost proud when it had gotten around that Abel had saved his ass, since he’d been the one to teach Abel to shoot and who the fuck had ever heard of a navigator who didn’t just get in the way on ground ops, but he’d have managed without Abel’s help.  Didn’t need him then, didn’t need him now.

“Do you want me back?” Abel asked, finally looking up.  A level look, no pleading.  Just a question, like he was offering to go get Cain another cup of coffee.

Cain crossed his arms over his chest and wished he had his smokes.  Something to do with his hands and eyes besides look at Abel and try not to fidget like some prissy navigator.  

Did he want Abel back?  Wanted to fuck him until his ass was sore and pink, wanted to fist his hands in that blond hair and make sure that scar never fucking faded, wanted to watch Abel shake and moan as he got off, sure.  He wanted to be on active rotation and get back to the top of the rankings again, and Abel was still the best navigator even if he was being wasted in central.  And maybe Cain could show Bering he wasn’t a complete fuckup and Abel was the right navigator for the mission after all.  

But did he want Abel and all his demands and feelings and neediness, that was the problem.

“You going to run off to central every time you get your feelings hurt?” Cain asked.

Abel squared his jaw.  “We talked about this.  Nothing happened.  I won’t volunteer if things are just going to go back to the way they were.”

“You talked about it,” Cain said, uncrossing his arms and curling one fist on the table.  “I asked if you were going to keep running off.” 

Abel glared at him and Cain thought he might throw a punch after all.  “Are you joking?  You threatened to—“ He cut himself off, his voice rising.  He ducked his head and looked around the crowded cafeteria.  Lowered his voice.  “You threatened to _rape_ me.  What the hell was I supposed to do?  If you listened in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem.  I thought after—after we tried it the other way, I thought you wanted to make things work.”  He fidgeted with rearranging his fork and napkin on his tray, and Cain realized Abel hadn’t eaten anything either.  “I’m done doing this your way, Cain.  You have to meet me halfway.  Look, I—“ Abel glanced around, then reached across and put a hand on Cain’s fist, his fingers hot.  Just a touch and then his hand was gone.  “I know you’re mostly just talk.  I know you have to put up this act for everyone else.  But you need to drop it sometimes.”  Abel shook his head.  “If you want me to request the transfer, you know where to find me.”  Abel picked up his tray and finally left, leaving Cain there to scowl at his back and the gawking navigators.  


	12. Chapter 12

**Cain**

Cain shifted outside Abel’s door a few days later.  It was late; he was a little drunk.  Not a whole fuck of a lot else to do these days, and what would command do if they found out, pull him from active duty?  And anyway, he had to be drunk to work himself up to this, to admit he’d rather eat his pride to get back on active rotation than hold out and hope Bering could find him another option.  

He’d just brought his hand up to bang on the metal door when it slid open, Abel standing there smiling over his shoulder at another navigator.  Looking tired and pleased, his neat uniform jacket undone and open.  No hickies, no bruises, just clean, unmarked skin over his collarbone and neck.  

“Yeah, we’ll look it over again in the morning,” Abel said as the other navigator shouldered past him, carrying a computer and printouts of ship plans.  He turned towards the door and frowned as he realized it was Cain standing there.  

“Have a good night, Abel,” the other navigator said, giving Cain a doubtful look.  Abel stood there in the doorway, staring at him as Cain scanned the room over his shoulder, waiting for the other navigator to get out of hearing.  Two glasses and bottles of contraband liquor and tonic sitting on the floor, more wiring diagrams scattered across the bed and the floor, Abel’s computer sitting open at the foot of the bed.  

Abel smelled like cheap gin.  Cain scowled; he’d never really thought about what the unassigned navigators did in their spare time and he didn’t like the thought of Abel out gossiping and getting trashed with the other navigators.  Who the hell knew what they talked about and how far it got?

“Who the fuck was that?” Cain asked, making to shoulder past Abel into the room, but the little blond put up an arm across the door and stuck his chin out.

“A friend.  Are you here to pick a fight, or do you want something?” Abel asked, and he sounded pissed, or maybe just tired.  Cain ground his jaw, thinking about pushing Abel into the room so they could do this in private, so it couldn’t get around that Cain had asked instead of putting his foot down and telling Abel how it was going to be.  What kind of asshole got pushed around by their navigator anyway?  Cain might as well bend over in the cafeteria and beg Abel to fuck him for everyone to see.  Abel stuck out his chin.  “If you just came to threaten and push me against the wall, get it over with.  I have things to get done tonight,” Abel said.  Cocky little shit.  

“Came about the transfer,” Cain said through gritted teeth.  “When’d your balls get so big anyway?”  Couldn’t help it; if he had to crawl back to Abel on his belly, he didn’t have to be nice about it, even if it meant having Abel spit in his face and tell him to fuck off for good.

“They were always this big,” Abel said, stepping aside to let him in with a little shrug and a half smile.  “You just had your head too far up your ass to notice.”  Cain growled as he brushed past Abel into the room, but didn’t say anything because it was probably true.  

Cain stood in the middle of the little space, making Abel squeeze past him chest to chest to get to the glasses sitting on the floor.  Watched as Abel crouched and poured them both with liquor and tonic water.  Abel glanced up at Cain from the floor and blushed when he realized how close his face was to Cain’s crotch.  Cain backed off and sat on the edge of the bed.

Abel straightened and handed him a glass, but stayed standing.  Cain knocked back his drink in one go, bitter tonic and harsh, shitty gin, the same fake smell they used to clean the urinals.  Abel frowned and sipped his, but took Cain’s glass without a word and poured him another one.  Just watched as he knocked that one back too.

“So you going to put in for the transfer or not?” Cain asked to break the silence.  Abel had made the offer and Cain had shown up; the least the little shit could do was save him the embarrassment of asking for it.  

Abel just sipped on his gin and tonic.  Leaned on the far wall, not that it was all that far away.  If Cain stood up he’d be standing right on top of Abel, in his face and pressing him against the wall.  Cain stayed sitting.  

“Do you want me to?” Abel asked.

“I’m not going to beg you for it,” Cain said, flexing his hand on his knee.  

“I didn’t ask you to.  I asked if you want me back.”  

Cain scowled at the floor.  Put his glass down next to his foot to avoid having to look at Abel.

Abel sat down on the bed next to him, not as far away as he could have, but not touching either.  Cain sat leaning his elbows on his knees, trying to follow all the wiring diagrams around.  Didn’t know why Abel had to make this so difficult.  Abel just sat there drinking, and Cain couldn’t tell what he was looking at.  

“You remember that first time?” Abel asked.  

Cain snorted and almost said something vulgar, but didn’t want to risk getting kicked out and losing his shot at getting back on active duty.  Fuck, when had he started worrying about what Abel thought?  “Yeah,” was all he said instead.  

Abel leaned elbows on his knees and rolled his glass between his hands, frowning down at it.  “I was so scared of you.   Everything went so fast.”

“I know,” Cain said, still looking at the wall.  Didn’t think about it too hard, since it was just how those things happened.  Nobody enjoyed their first time getting fucked.  You just got through it and hoped next time you were the one doing the fucking.

“It was better than I expected.  You weren’t as mean as I thought you’d be,” Abel said, and Cain thought he maybe smiled a little, but couldn’t tell.  Abel took another sip of his drink.  Went back to rolling the glass between his hands.

Cain wondered how drunk Abel was.  He didn’t seem even tipsy, but what the fuck did Cain know, the only time he’d seen Abel drunk was when he’d made the little princess take so many vodka shots they both fell on their asses trying to get into bed.  That had been a good night.  

“Would you have stopped if I had asked you to?” Abel asked, not looking at him.  

Abel, all curled up that first night like he was trying to wish himself anywhere else.  Defiant and angry, shocked and bashful even with Cain’s mouth on him.  Begging for it with his face pressed to the bed.

Would he have stopped?  “Yeah,” Cain said, and didn’t think it was a lie.  

And so what if it was?  Abel would never know the difference.  Things just were the way they were, didn’t matter if it was true.  Cain could tell any lie Abel wanted if it got him off Bering’s shit list and it got them back to how they’d been.  

But Cain didn’t think it was a lie.

Abel knocked back the rest of his drink.  “I requested the transfer this morning,” he said.  Cain stared as Abel leaned down to pour himself another drink.  Mostly gin, just a splash of tonic this time.  Abel sat up and watched him sideways.  “I was going wait and see if it went through before I told you.  Are you mad?”

“Uh,” Cain said.  Didn’t know if he should be angry Abel had made him drag himself in here and ask, or angry that Abel had done it without waiting for his say-so, or just relieved they’d get put on active duty again.  With luck, anyway, which he’d thought he’d run out of lately, but maybe Abel had a little left to spare.  Cain cleared his throat and stood.  “Good,” he said, since he didn’t know what else to say.  Put his hands in his pockets and turned towards the door.  No sense in dragging this out more than it needed to be.  Now he could go finish off that bottle of vodka and worry about whether the transfer went through later.  “See you later, princess.”

“Cain.”  

Abel was watching him, sitting on the bed with his glass on his knee.  How many times had they done this, Abel looking up at him?  And Cain still couldn’t figure out the look on Abel’s face.  

“I don’t know if we’ll get the transfer, but you can stay here tonight if you want,” Abel said.

Cain shifted on his feet, suddenly uncomfortable with Abel’s plain invitation without the neediness.  “My place has a bigger bed,” Cain said finally, trying to make it sound like an offer.  Didn’t know how well it came out.

Abel shook his head.  “We’re not having sex, not tonight anyway.  Too drunk,” he said, raising his glass a little.  “But you can stay anyway.  If you want.” 

Both of them in that narrow little bed, in Abel’s space, on his terms.  Why the hell would Cain stay if they weren’t a team and they weren’t fucking?  He looked at the door, thinking.  Looked back at Abel.  “You want me to?” he asked.  

Abel smiled and reached out to grab Cain by the wrist.  “Yeah,” Abel said, and pulled him back to the bed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Cain**

Cain sprawled across the bed, laying on his stomach with head pillowed on his arms.  He’d let Abel stumble off to the shower, shaky-kneed and ass pink from a good fuck, and now he was just waiting for that cute ass to get back to bed before drifting off.  

He woke up with a start as Abel climbed into bed.  Fuck, he was tired, sore from training, tired from fucking Abel twice in a day.  He grunted and grudgingly made a little room when Abel nudged him over, settling against Cain with one damp arm draped over his back and their legs tangled together.  

Cain scowled with his eyes closed, tired enough to let Abel get away with putting a knee between his legs.  The ticklish brush of Abel’s nose against the back of his neck as the little princess snuggled in helped.  Cain heaved a sigh, drifting back off with Abel’s hand running up and down his back.  

Abel’s damp hair brushed his shoulder as the little blond brought his face up to kiss Cain’s back.  Cain growled and sleepily shrugged him off.  Abel was a good fuck, but this snuggling shit was getting old.  Abel pushed himself up on one elbow, pulling Cain closer with one leg and leaning in to suck his ear.  

Fuck.  Cain groaned and swiped a hand back at the blond, dick twitching just a little in half interest as he turned on his side to face away from Abel.  Bitch still needed to learn that they fucked when Cain said so, not the other way around.  

Abel just scooted closer, mouth on Cain’s shoulder, _spooning_ him.  Abel flicked his ear with his tongue, pressing up against Cain, and he realized the blond was hard again.  Abel curled a hand through his hair, cock nestled against Cain’s ass.  Cain growled, turned on and pissed off at the same time, Abel’s other hand running down his thigh.  

“Go jack off in the shower, you little nympho—“ he said, pushing Abel’s hand off his leg.

Abel caught his wrist and brought it up over Cain’s head, holding it there with one hand as his other returned to stroke Cain’s thigh.  “No,” Abel murmured, pushing himself up enough to suck on Cain’s neck.  

Cain half growled, half groaned as Abel pushed a knee between his legs and raked a hand up the inside of his thigh, avoiding his thickening cock.  He was awake now, a little groggy but awake, twisting his head to kiss Abel over his shoulder, pinned by his own arm.  He gave Abel’s lip a good bite, as a reminder.   

The blond pulled away from him with a little smile and a brush of fingertips across his balls, leaving Cain to shudder against him, back arching and his ass pressed against Abel.  

“Fuck, don’t you ever get tired?” he growled into the pillow, Abel’s fingers stroking him more firmly now.  He’d thought fucking Abel shaky-legged through the sheets and—heh—the floor would have worn him out enough for one night.

He felt Abel smile against his neck before nipping at his ear again, Cain’s hand released as Abel snaked a hand beneath them to hold him by the waist.  Cain was hard now, hard and awake, Abel’s fingers teasing and Abel’s pulsing cock slick against his ass.

“If you can’t keep up,” Abel murmured into his ear, throwing Cain’s words back at him, “maybe I’ll have to leave you behind.”

Cain snarled and flipped them over, pushing Abel onto his back, pissed and horny and ready to show Abel who was in charge.

“The fuck you will,” he said, hauling up Abel’s knees.  

Abel shuddered and arched his back as Cain slid into him, expecting to do this rough and fast to teach the little blond a lesson, but forgetting that when he felt how slick, hot and loose Abel was already.  He’d had been planning this, stretching himself out in the shower.  Fuck.  

Cain closed his eyes as he sank into Abel, too tired to fuck the little nympho as hard as he deserved.  Abel curled up into him, wrapping his arms around Cain’s shoulders and pulling him down, wrapping his legs around Cain’s waist and trying to pull him deeper.  Rocking his hips, trying to control the pace.

Fuck that.  Cain put an arm around Abel and picked him up, spinning them around again and laying back with Abel on top of him.  Abel untangled his legs and winced as Cain brought his hand down across his ass.  “You want it so bad, you can work for it,” Cain said, grabbing Abel’s ass with both hands and pushing up into him.  Abel sucked his lower lip and Cain almost laughed at the excitement on his face.  Fuck, he’d never had a navigator this horny.  So what if he’d be exhausted and pissed off all day tomorrow, because he had Abel and his hot, tight ass back and begging for it.

Abel rolled his hips slow, leaning down so his cock brushed Cain’s stomach and Cain almost slipped out of him.  Just the tip, barely in and so close to popping out.  Abel teased himself with it, turning his face to Cain’s neck to roll his tongue over the hickey he’d put there last night.  

Cain slapped his ass again and Abel jumped, tightening around him as Cain pushed up as far as he could at this angle.  He ran both hands up Abel’s back and down again across his ass, enjoying the feeling of hot skin under his hands and imagining how pink Abel’s pale ass must be.  Hot and red in the shape of Cain’s hand.  

Abel rolled his hips again, deeper now but still too slow, rocking back and forth and taking his time at it.  Cain growled and brought his knees up so he could get better leverage to thrust up into Abel more quickly.  “I’m not fucking you all night, princess,” he said, bringing one hand up.  “Hurry up.”  Abel gasped and arched his back when Cain’s hand came down, harder this time and holding Abel’s ass in place as Cain picked up the pace.  

“The fuck—“ Cain snapped as Abel grabbed both his wrists, pulling Cain’s hands up over his head and holding them there with one hand.  He groaned and didn’t fight it too hard, shuddering as Abel reached behind and pulled himself wider.  Fucked himself slow, sliding up and down in long strokes while he kept Cain pinned in place.  “Who’s doing the fucking here, princess?” Cain growled, pushing against Abel’s hands.  Only a little, though.  

Abel sucked his bottom lip, thinking, watching Cain’s face as he started to rock faster, rolling his hips to push Cain deeper.  “I am,” the little blond said, smiling a little as Cain shuddered under him.  Leaned in to kiss, but Abel just nudged Cain’s face away and sucked his neck, and Cain forgot about everything except lying there and letting Abel ride him stupid.  He could let Abel fuck him any time if it was going to be like this.  

He was so close to coming, eyes closed and concentrating on the feeling of Abel fucking him, that it didn’t register at first when Abel opened his mouth against Cain’s shoulder.  Cain brought his knees up to get a better angle, pushing up against Abel’s rhythm, wanting to come into Abel hard and deep if the little blond was going to get himself off like this, Abel’s cock rubbing between them and he wanted so badly to reach down and make Abel moan.  

He felt Abel’s hands tighten on his wrists before he realized that the selfish little bitch had stopped moving, just his teeth sinking into Cain’s shoulder and his whole body shivering, trying to hold it back for both of them.  Cain snapped his hips up into Abel, once, twice, so close—

Abel came across his belly, shuddering and letting go of Cain’s wrists, curling into him like Abel wanted to keep them there forever.  

Cain wasn’t finished with him yet, not when he was this close and Abel teasing with his little shudders, so Cain wrapped his arms around Abel’s waist and shoulder to keep him from going anywhere.

Abel shivered and clung to him, slick and needy but riding it out as Cain held them together and fucked Abel as hard as he could, faster and so close— 

And fuck, there were Abel’s teeth again and Cain came into him, pushing Abel’s ass down so he could just sink in and shudder, holding Abel against him.  Abel’s weight pressed down on him and Cain could feel his heartbeat in his whole body.  

Cain grabbed after Abel as the little blond gingerly climbed off him and almost got out of bed, but let Abel reach down for a dirty shirt to wipe them off.  Then he pulled Abel back.

Abel draped himself across Cain, hot and sweaty with one leg over Cain’s knee and face pressed into his neck.  Put a soft hand on Cain’s hip.  Cain brushed Abel’s blond hair down, just to get it out of his face, but left his hand on Abel’s shoulder.  Abel sighed against his neck.

“Abel,” Cain said.  The blond stirred a little, but didn’t look up.  Finally fucked to exhaustion.  Only took three tries.

“Hnn?” Abel mumbled.

Cain looked down at him, all pale skinny legs and pink ass tangled up in the sheets.  “More biting next time,” he said, and slapped Abel’s ass.  Just enough to feel Abel startle against his bruising shoulder.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very strong warning for rape and victim blaming in this chapter.

**Cain**

The transfer went through, and thank fuck for that, because Cain was getting sick of stepping around Abel’s feelings in case he changed his mind.  Abel was hornier than he’d ever been, and that was fine except Cain was never going to fucking admit that he couldn’t keep up with a pansy navigator.  But at least they were back to normal, Abel begging to be fucked and getting bolder, on their way back to the top of the rankings even if Cain’s gimp leg made him careful about picking fights.

Didn’t matter; he had Abel back and the bad leg didn’t keep them from fucking, which was all Cain cared about.  Abel smiled over his shoulder as Cain pushed him towards a storage locker for a quick fuck.  

But then Abel faltered midstep, looking past Cain at something, his smile gone, and they were both being pushed in the door, Cain almost pushing Abel over as he was propelled in with a hand on his back.  Cain rounded on whoever was behind him, but Laius and Planchet and two other fuckers with a death wish pushed in behind them and caught his fist before he could break anyone’s teeth.

Laius pushed Cain into a third asshole, Planchet holding Abel to the wall with a hand across his throat.  Laius smiled, looking back and forth between Cain and Abel, standing too close to Abel.  Planchet leaned in to bite Abel’s ear, but the blond managed to twist away and got his throat crushed trying to get out of Planchet’s grip.  “Your navigator’s been getting out of line, Cain,” Laius said, watching Abel choke.  “Since you can’t keep him under control, we’re going to teach your girlfriend a lesson for you.”

“Fuck you,” Cain snapped.  “Mind your goddamn business and fuck your own navigator.  Mine’s under control just fine.”  Cain shrugged off the hand on his shoulder and clenched his fists, the storage locker claustrophobic with six of them in there and no room to swing a punch.

“Yeah?” Laius sneered, stepping too close, so close Cain had to look up at him.  Laius might have reach in a fight, but the tall ones just fell harder.  “That why he tried to get you grounded?  That why he told off me for teaching my navigator a lesson?”  Fuck.  Cain hadn’t heard about that, Abel hadn’t told him about it, and he would have fucking taught Abel a lesson in minding his own goddamn business if he had heard about it.  “He’s a regular little hero.  All the navigators are getting uppity thinking they can just ask for a transfer if they get their panties in a twist since yours whipped you so good.  Your girlfriend thinks just because you let him run off and fuck Keeler he can do whatever the fuck he wants.  Everyone knows who takes it up the ass on the Reliant, and it isn’t him, you little cocksucker.”

Cain snarled and threw a punch, but the asshole behind him was too fast, holding him back while Laius laughed in his face, and someone had a knife out already.  Abel’s eyes were big, watching Cain, trusting too much, still thinking Cain could get them out of this.  Too much trust.

Laius turned back to Abel, stroking his face, kind and intimate.  “Who do you want first, cutie?” Laius asked with a smile.

“I’ll do it,” Cain said through gritted teeth before anyone else could say anything.  See if he could talk their way out of this without throwing Abel to the wolves.

Laius looked back at him with raised eyebrows, and flicked his eyes at the guy behind Cain, who pushed him forward with the soft prick of a knife point to his side.  “Want to switch places, Cain?  I heard you got through basic on your knees pretty well before you got your attitude problem,” Laius said, some other dead man snickering behind Cain.  If he could just get his fucking knife he’d gut the bastard, but there were too many of them, no room to make a grab for it and Abel still held tight and out of reach.

“He’s my fucking navigator,” Cain said instead, moving to get in arm’s reach of Abel.  “He needs a lesson, I’ll do it myself.  Come on, you little shit.”  He grabbed Abel and tried to pull him out of there.  He could give Abel a black eye and a fat lip back at their room to make it look good and then put it around that he’d done what needed doing.  Better that than let Laius and the rest of these assholes do it.

“Oh no you don’t, you gypsy bastard,” Laius said, putting himself between Cain and the door.  Abel shrank against him, breath shallow, and Cain tightened his grip on Abel’s arm, trying to keep Abel out of Laius’ reach even if he couldn’t put himself between Abel and the rest of them, surrounded on back and sides.  It would get ugly fast if Laius made a grab for Abel and Cain couldn’t get his knife out quick enough.  Four of them against Cain, and no telling if his gimp leg would buckle under him or stiffen up.  Abel worse than useless, a fragile fucking liability in this tiny space if Cain tried to keep himself between Abel and the rest.  “We’re going to make sure you do it right, since you haven’t managed so far,” Laius said.  “You fuck him here or we do it for you.  If you’ve forgotten how, we can teach you both a lesson.”

Cain looked around the room at them as another one came up beside Laius, blocking the door.  Memorized their smug, leering faces so it would be better later when he made every last one of them regret this.  No fighting his way out of this now, not without getting himself and Abel both killed or worse, and Abel had brought this on himself anyway, fucking around with telling goddamn Laius how to treat his navigator.  

Get it over with now and deal with it later.

Cain turned Abel to face him and put a hand on his shoulder, but Abel balked, swallowing and giving him a horrified look.  “Get on your knees,” Cain said, frowning and pressing on Abel’s shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t have to break Abel’s teeth to get this over with.  It would only make things worse if he had to force Abel into doing this; the more Abel balked, the less it would look like Cain was in control, and Laius might finish the job if he wasn’t satisfied.

“Cain—“ Abel choked, his voice rough, eyes too focused on Cain and not the gigantic fucking mess he’d gotten them both in, like there was anything Cain could do to fix this.

“Get on your _fucking_ knees,” Cain snapped, shoving him down.

Abel stumbled as he went down, catching himself with a hand on the floor, and his eyes were squeezed shut when Cain dragged his face up.  At least then he didn’t have to deal with Abel’s stupid, misplaced trust.  Cain willed himself hard, thinking about the last time he’d fucked Abel, twice in a night, Abel riding him and begging for more, trying to shut out Laius and his grinning bastard friends.  

He’d never fucking live it down if he let Laius do this or if he couldn’t finish it himself.  Might as well slit his own throat and give them Abel now if he couldn’t.

He forced Abel’s mouth open, ignoring the strain in Abel’s jaw as the little blond tried to keep his mouth and eyes shut.  With his hand on Abel’s face, Cain could feel just how badly Abel didn’t want to do this, but there was no getting out of it now.  He pressed at the tight, hard muscle of Abel’s jaw, where his upper and lower teeth met, unbuttoning his own uniform and squeezing Abel’s face as hard as he could until Abel’s eyes watered and he finally opened his damn mouth.  

At least Cain could mostly trust that Abel wouldn’t bite him, since they’d both be dead if Abel had the bright fucking idea to bite Laius like last time.

Abel’s mouth was empty and dry, just barely managing to keep teeth and tongue out of the way as he swallowed convulsively around Cain’s cock, eyes still squeezed shut.  Abel didn’t try to get up or get away, fingertips just brushing the floor and Cain’s boots, trying to keep his balance as Cain held him in place by the hair and made it look rough, ignoring the little blond’s gagging as he brushed the back of Abel’s throat.  

Too deep, deeper than he usually made Abel do this.  Cain never held Abel down unless the little blond was being a tease, but that was just to make a point and Abel got off from it.  Wanting to be used rough, wanting to be Cain’s slut, but that was nothing like this, nothing like what he was doing to Abel now.

Abel sucked reflexively, choking and swallowing against the pressure in his throat.  Cain could probably finish this way if he just ignored Abel’s chapped lips, if Abel kept his eyes shut and quit gagging so hard.  

And he was close, almost done with this fucking farce as Abel got his balance and Cain backed off enough to let him actually suck instead of choke.

But of course that was too easy.

“Enough foreplay, Cain,” Laius said, pushing Abel away suddenly, sending him sprawling across the floor on someone’s boots.  “Get it over with.”

Abel looked up at him from the floor, eyes round and red as he realized what that meant, shaky and frozen.  

 _I thought you trusted me._  

Trust had never had anything to do with it.  Abel’s own fault for ever making it about trust.

Cain ground his teeth and pulled Abel to his feet.  Pressed him face first against the wall so he wouldn’t have to look at Abel while he did this, so he could just do it and get it over with and not think about it.

“Cain, please—“ Abel whispered, trying to look over his shoulder as Cain undid Abel’s pants and tugged them down under his ass.  Cain shoved Abel’s face into the wall, ignoring the little blond’s wince as his forehead and cheekbone glanced off the metal wall.  

He put his mouth next to Abel’s ear, hoping no one else would hear.  “Me or all of them, sweetheart, it’s going to happen either way.”

Abel hesitated, almost too long, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing himself to the wall like he could wish himself out of there.  “You,” he whispered, and Cain pushed into him before Abel could change his mind.

“Then shut the _fuck_ up,” Cain growled into his shoulder to distract himself from how tense and dry Abel was, and ignored the strangled, choked cry Abel tried to hold down.  That was Abel’s fault too; he should have done a better job of slicking Cain up if he didn’t want this to go so badly.  But Cain should never have let Abel get so far out of hand that this was necessary in the first place.  

He’d been too kind, letting Abel get away with too much.

Cain could hear laughs behind him, bastards rubbing one out as they watched, but he concentrated on Abel biting his lip bloody and tried to get this over with as fast as possible.  He hoped Abel wasn’t crying or getting hard from this because it would go worse for him if Laius and the rest saw it.  Cain didn’t think he could watch someone else do this to Abel without getting himself killed trying to stop it.

Abel shuddered and brought his hands up between himself and the wall, trying to buffer his face against the cold metal as Cain fucked him harder, trying to finish.  “Please, Cain—“ Abel gasped, and Cain shoved his mouth and nose against the wall, not interested in hearing it.  He didn’t want to hear Abel sound anything like he did when they fucked alone, wanted to fuck him like this wasn’t Abel and it was just some other fairy navigator who deserved it.  

Abel did deserve it.  

And anyway, it was better for Cain to be the one to do it than someone else, since he’d let Abel get so far out of line.

He pulled out of Abel and let him slide bonelessly to the floor, coming across his face and the wall, showing the rest of those fuckers it was finally done.  Cain wiped Abel’s blood off his cock and onto his own uniform; at least he wouldn’t make Abel walk out of here with his white uniform bloody like Laius would have.  Abel huddled on the floor shaking, wiping his face and trying to pull his clothes back on as Cain buttoned himself up, but Abel’s hands were clumsy and he couldn’t quite manage.

“Get up, get the fuck up,” Cain snapped, pulling Abel to his feet and doing it for him, ignoring the way his little navigator flinched away from him.  He had to get them both out of there as fast as possible, before Laius changed his mind and this got even worse.  

He just managed to get Abel to the door, barely holding him together, when Laius put up a hand between Cain and Abel.  Cain snarled and pushed past him, too fucking angry to think about the other three behind him.  “Get the fuck out of my way, you got what you wanted,” Cain snapped.  Laius laughed in his face, but then they were out, Cain pushing Abel in front of him as fast as he could, but they weren’t followed, and Abel was walking on his own, even if it was shaky-kneed and stumbling.  

The lift had a couple of navigators in it when it finally came, and they eyed Cain sideways at the way Abel turned his face away from all of them and wouldn’t look anyone in the eye.  Cain glared them down and they stared at the floor instead.  He shoved Abel out of the lift at their floor and kept a hand on him to keep him from bolting.  

Not that Abel had anywhere else to go.  

Abel stumbled into their room, his feet and hands clumsy when Cain pushed him down onto the mattress, and he scrambled away from Cain as fast as he could, putting his back to the wall and not looking up.  Cain went after him, getting on his knees to tear Abel’s jacket off him, pinning one of the little blond’s wrists over his head to keep from hurting him with his sudden panicky thrashing.  Cain shook Abel and got his boots and undershirt off, and then Abel stopped fighting him, just lay there and curled up on himself when Cain finally got his pants off.  

Cain stood up, wanting to get out of his own uniform, but that could wait. Had to deal with Abel first.  Abel lay there, naked and helpless, his eyes open and staring at the wall, waiting with his hands curled up between his knees and his chest.

Eyes dry.  Just waiting.  His cheek would swell from being pushed against the wall, but not very much.  

Otherwise there wasn’t a mark on him that wasn’t there before.  Just clean, pale skin except for a few bright hickies Cain had given him last time they fucked.  No way to tell what had just happened.  

Better than what he would have gotten from Laius and those other fuckers.  

Cain threw a towel at him, finally getting a reaction out of the little blond when Abel flinched away from it.  “Go take a shower,” he said, but Abel didn’t move.  “I said _go take a fucking shower_ ,” Cain snapped, hauling Abel up by the arm and shoving the towel at him.  Abel stood there naked and staring past him, face turned half away, clutching at the towel mechanically.  Cain pushed him at the little closet bathroom and Abel finally moved, stiff kneed with none of his usual blushing modesty.  

The shower didn’t turn on right away.  Cain stood there listening, and almost went in to make Abel get in the shower, but then the water was on, and Cain stripped out of his bloody uniform instead.  He changed into fatigues and left to go kill someone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Abel**

“I said go take a _fucking_ shower,” Cain snarled, hauling him up and shoving something into his hand, and then he was in the bathroom, staring at the shower, not understanding.  He didn’t really need a shower.  He’d showered that morning.  

 

* * *

 

“Who do you want first, cutie?” Laius asked, gentle and smiling, and Abel finally realized what they meant to do.

 

* * *

 

The water was too hot.  He leaned against the wall.  

 

* * *

 

“You fuck him here or we do it for you,” Laius said, and Abel could feel Cain thinking it over, the door so close.  Abel didn’t know why Cain didn’t just push them out of there.  Maybe since Cain had gotten the transfer he wanted to do this, wanted to show Abel he could follow through on the threat he’d made, wanted to make Abel regret ever thinking he could make things better between them, or tell Cain what to do, or have any control over anything.  

And then another fighter stepped in front of the door and there was no way out.  “Get on your knees,” Cain said.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t meant for it to happen, he’d just stepped in without thinking about it when he saw Laius slap Phobos, because no one deserved that.  Not even Phobos.  But Laius had shoved Abel away and Phobos had walked with a limp for a week after and didn’t look at anyone, and now Abel knew why.

 

* * *

 

Abel couldn’t get his mouth open, even though he wanted to, wanted to just forget Laius and Planchet and the other ones were watching and pretend this was just like every other time he did this for Cain alone, but he couldn’t and it hurt so badly, Cain’s gloved hand hard with his thumb grinding against Abel’s teeth.

And then there was a hand in his hair, and his mouth was open, and he couldn’t tell if this was Cain or Laius or Planchet, just Abel alone with five fighters, all of them the same, all of them going to do the same thing, and he couldn’t keep his balance or get a breath, afraid of what would happen if he tried to stop this.

 

* * *

 

He would never have tried to help Phobos, not if he’d known what was going to happen.  

Cain had called him a coward, and it was true.

 

* * *

 

Cain stood over him, face hard, distant and unrecognizable, just some fighter who was going to make Abel regret everything.  _I don’t think you get how this works, Abel._

 

* * *

 

_don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry_

 

* * *

 

Cain or all of them.  

Trapped, between Cain and the wall and the other fighters, laughing and blocking the way out, his mouth full of blood.  

Cain or all of them.

 

* * *

 

_don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry_

 

* * *

 

He was on the floor, and there were five of them, laughing and leering and waiting their turn, and Abel was alone, trying to get his clothes back on before it could start again but failing, and then one of them jerked him up and it was happening all over again—

 

* * *

 

The water was too cold, and Abel was sitting on the floor, knees against his chest.  

It had never been about trust.  It was his own fault for making it about trust. 

_  
_

* * *

 

**Cain**

Abel was there when he got back, lying curled on his side facing the wall, and it looked like he hadn’t left, naked under the sheet and hair still damp.  Had probably been in the shower a while, if his hair was still wet from it.  Cain put down the cup of soup he’d brought from the cafeteria in case Abel hadn’t left to eat and shucked out of his jacket.  He sat down next to Abel, taking the cup of soup with him and balancing it on his knee.  Abel lay there, eyes open.  Just waiting.

Cain put a hand on Abel’s shoulder and shook him, Abel’s skin hot and dry.  “Sit up and eat, princess.”  

Abel sat up slowly, shying away from Cain’s hand, but he ate, his eyes big and unfocused.  He drank straight from the cup, didn’t ask for the spoon Cain had brought for him or bother with his usual fussiness, and just put the cup on the mattress when he was done, lying down next to it.  He lay still and Cain frowned at the pale curve of his back.  

It was late; they had to be up on patrol in the morning.  Cain got rid of the cup and stripped out of his clothes, flicking the lights off and pushing Abel over to make room as he lay down.  He stared at the ceiling, not touching Abel but feeling him shiver through the sheet that lay over them both.  The room was hot and claustrophobic, Abel’s shallow breathing the only sound.  

Cain pushed the sheet off them, too hot to bear it, and pushed himself against Abel’s back.  He stroked Abel’s arm and kissed the back of his neck.  Put the shaking in his own hand down as just adrenaline and beating the shit out of Planchet and exhaustion.  He brushed his lips over the back of Abel’s neck, closed his eyes and didn’t think about anything.  Abel liked it this way in the morning, slow and lazy when they had the time, so Cain kissed his shoulder and brushed his fingers over Abel’s hip.  Abel would ease into it if Cain took his time.

“Don’t touch me,” Abel said, flat and hard and level, no emotion in it.  Cain stopped, mouth and hand still on Abel, thinking.  Abel shivered but his voice was even, so Cain kissed him again, needing to make Abel forget about earlier.  

“Don’t _touch_ me,” Abel said again, his voice rising into hysterics as he tried to sit up, but Cain shoved him back down.  

Abel didn’t know what he wanted.  He never had, and that’s what he needed Cain for.  He just needed to calm down and sleep and then he’d be over it, and they could both forget about it after Cain found Laius alone and made him pay for it.  

Abel lay there stiff and rigid as Cain kept kissing him, but he didn’t try to pull away when Cain put an arm around him, pulling them together to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Cain**

Abel lay there in the morning, staring at the wall again until Cain threw a fresh uniform at him and bullied him into getting dressed.  His reactions were still good on patrol, and he took orders, but he didn’t say a goddamn thing, not in the morning, not on patrol, not when they were back at the room and Cain pushed him into the shower again.  Abel just took orders, doing what he was told and not quite looking at Cain.

He fucked Abel a few days later, slow and easy so Abel wouldn’t balk.  Cain even tried to make Abel to straddle him so Abel could have it as slow as he wanted, but Abel just lay there with his face turned away and his eyes blank while Cain tried to kiss him.  

Abel even got half hard from it.  But he squeezed his eyes shut when Cain tried to stroke him harder and jerk him off.  So Cain left him alone in the bed and took a shower to finish, thinking about the surprised, needy face Abel had made last time Cain had gone down on him. 

He walked Abel to every meal, half to make sure Laius couldn’t finish what he’d started, and half to just make sure Abel ate something.  His eyes were getting big, dark circles under them, and Cain knew he wasn’t sleeping, knew he didn’t eat a damn thing besides what Cain told him to, just stared at his plate and pushed it around with his fork until Cain told him to quit fucking around and eat.  For everything else Cain could make Abel do, he couldn’t make Abel sleep, or stop thinking so hard, or start thinking again, or whatever the fuck was wrong with him.

Abel didn’t do a damn thing besides what Cain told him to.  Except for one morning when they were about to sit for breakfast and Abel just turned away without a word, going to sit with Keeler and a table full of navigators, leaving Cain standing there alone.  

Cain sat and watched Abel’s back, wary for Laius, but Keeler outranked that asshole, so Keeler could probably keep Abel safe so long as they stayed together.  And Abel needed a friend anyway.  Cain sure as hell wasn’t his friend, and he didn’t know who else Abel had besides Keeler, because Cain had never known a goddamn thing about Abel except how to fuck him.  

Abel sat a little too close to Keeler.  Almost huddled against him, but there were no gestures, no excitement.  He just sat there quiet and poking at his food like he did with Cain.  Still not looking anyone in the face.  

And then Abel was gone, leaving with the navigators, and Cain wanted to shake him and tell him to stick close so Cain could protect him, but Cain hadn’t managed that so far, so he let Abel go.

_  
_

* * *

 

Abel had all his meals with the navigators after that, disappearing into central whenever he could.  If Cain watched close, he could catch Abel coming out of his blankness around the navigators, a half smile here and a little gesture there, but Cain got none of it.  Abel was absent minded and quiet when they had to work together, but he came back every night, silent and staring at his hands or the wall.  One word answers if Cain bullied him into saying something.  No fight left in him.

He didn’t try fucking Abel again, not interested in watching Abel lie there with his eyes squeezed shut, but he pushed Abel into the shower every night and waited until he was out to lie down with him.  Cain held him down until they fell asleep, but Abel didn’t balk anymore.  He just lay down and waited for Cain to push or pull him where he wanted him.  Cain figured he must be eating, even if he sure as hell wasn’t sleeping, and he kept Cain from getting any goddamn sleep either.

Most nights Cain woke up with Abel pressed against him, shivering and hot, twisting in his sleep.  The one time he tried to wake up Abel out of it he almost snapped the little blond’s wrists trying to keep from getting his own teeth broken, Abel coming out of it wild and hysterical until Cain held him down and he went blank again.  After that Cain just lay there staring at the ceiling and let Abel press into him until the nightmares were over.

Cain found Keeler alone in central after too many nights of that.  Keeler looked him up and down with his shoulders tense, judging.  “You’re Abel’s fighter?” Keeler asked warily, even though he probably knew exactly who else was fucking Abel.

Cain scowled but pushed on.  “You have to talk to Abel.  See if he wants to transfer back to central.”  If he could just get Abel transferred back somewhere safe from Laius, Cain wouldn’t have to deal with Abel’s blank, empty face and shivering nightmares.  Abel would only be his problem so long as Bering kept them together.  Let Keeler deal with him instead.  

Keeler frowned, watching Cain’s face, mouth pinched.  Probably hadn’t been fucked in weeks, since Cain got Abel back.  “Did something happen?” Keeler asked quietly.  Too soft, like Abel.  Cain just glared at him.  “There’s been too many transfers lately, so Cook and Bering stopped accepting requests without a statement from medical that there’s been . . . misconduct.”  

“Just talk to Abel,” Cain said, and turned away.  He didn’t have to explain himself to Keeler, and if Abel couldn’t get over this bullshit, that was his problem.  Cain didn’t care what Abel did so long as his reactions in the Reliant stayed good.

“Cain,” Keeler said, and Cain stopped, but didn’t turn around, not sure he could face up to Keeler.  “I tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t say anything.  What happened?”

Cain ground his teeth together.  “Nothing,” he said, and left.  If Keeler wouldn’t do anything about it, Cain would just have to fix it himself.


	17. Chapter 17

**Abel**

Abel sat by Cain’s bed in medical, thinking he was supposed to feel something.  

Cain had dragged himself into their room last night, bloody and cut up.  Abel had just stared at him until Cain collapsed and he’d finally called medical.  Cain hadn’t managed to hurt Laius as badly as he had gotten hurt, so command had just had Laius sewn up and sent to the brig.  Now they were all waiting to see if Cain would pull out of this to be sent to the brig too.

Abel sat by Cain’s bed most of the day, since he’d been pulled from active rotation without a flight partner, and thought he should feel something, since it was his fault this had happened to Cain.  Medical pushed him out of the way sometimes to check the dressings on Cain’s arms and stomach, or to adjust the morphine drip when Cain woke up a little, but otherwise they left Abel alone to sit there and watch Cain sleep.  

He didn’t feel much of anything, though.  

The other, little fighter, Deimos, the one with light eyes Cain had slept with, came that evening and sat down on the other side of Cain’s bed without saying anything.  Abel just sat there with his hands in his lap and stared at the floor, the violation of seeing Cain push Deimos’ bloody face down on their bed seeming even worse now than it had then.  Deimos just looked back and forth between them, his eyes lingering on Abel.  

Cain stirred after a while, waking up and pushing himself half sitting.  One of the medics came over to check him, but he let Cain sit up and left the three of them.  Cain looked back and forth between them groggily, Abel still staring at the floor.  He didn’t really want to be there, but he didn’t have anywhere else to be.

“Deimos,” Cain said, lifting a couple fingers, still too weak from the blood loss.  Abel looked up then, watching Deimos stand and lean over Cain, just a little too close.

Cain grabbed Deimos’ jacket and Abel looked away, thinking they might kiss.  “Get the fuck out of here,” Cain growled, and Deimos stumbled back, pushed away from the bed.  

Abel sat there frozen as Deimos came around to his side, and paused next to his chair.  Abel looked up at him, anxious with having a fighter so close, even one shorter than him.  He’d been hiding in central when he could, to avoid the other fighters when he couldn’t be near Cain.  Afraid to be alone with Cain, but more afraid to be caught alone without him.

Deimos reached out, stroking Abel’s hair with light fingers and Abel just sat there, too shocked to shy away from his hand, but then Deimos was gone.  

Cain settled back on his pillow, his eyes opening and closing slowly against the painkillers, and Abel couldn’t tell if he was glaring at Abel or Deimos.  Abel avoided looking at Cain now that he was awake, and got up to leave.

“Abel.  Stay,” Cain said, and Abel froze there.  Cain crooked a couple of fingers at him, and Abel stepped stiffly towards him, but stayed just out of reach in case Cain tried to grab him.  He stood there with his hands in his pockets, focusing on the sheet spilling over the side of the bed to avoid having to meet Cain’s stare.  “You finally get some sleep?” Cain asked, looking him up and down.  

Abel nodded guiltily.  He’d collapsed into bed after medical had taken Cain away, too tired to think about the bloodstains Cain had left on the sheets, too unbearably grateful to have the bed to himself until he woke up and realized that he should be here instead.  _Wouldn’t hurt you to be a little grateful._ No matter how long command and medical kept Cain off active duty, he’d be out eventually, and Abel wasn’t stupid or optimistic enough to think Cain would forget why he’d gotten cut up by Laius and whose fault it was.

“Good,” Cain grunted.  “Get someone over here to unhook me, I need to go finish killing that fucker Laius.”  He pushed himself up a little more, but slid back against the pillow with a grimace.

“He’s in the brig,” Abel said quietly.

Cain grunted again, closing his eyes.  Abel managed to look at him again.  “Better stay there if he knows what’s good for him,” Cain muttered.  His breathing was even, but his hands twisted on the sheets and he frowned with his eyes closed, in pain past all the drugs.  

“I should go,” Abel lied.  He didn’t have anywhere else to be, nothing to do besides wait alone to hear if command was going to keep them together.  Nothing to do but worry about when command was going to send Cain back and what mood he would be in.

Cain put a hand out to grab after Abel, but he stepped back further out of Cain’s reach.  “Abel,” Cain snapped.  “It was better that way.”

“For who?” Abel said to the floor, and wished he hadn’t, but he’d been so scared, of Laius, of Cain, of all of them, so scared he hadn’t been thinking straight, had thought that Cain could get them out of it if Abel just went along and did what Cain said.  

It would have been better the other way.  At least if it had been the other way, Cain trying to be gentle afterwards would have made things better, not worse.

“It doesn’t matter, because you’re shit out of luck either way, princess,” Cain snapped.  “I already tried to get you a transfer.”

A transfer.  Abel hadn’t really thought about a transfer, hadn’t thought about anything at all except running his numbers in the lab and doing what Cain said.  As if doing what Cain said had ever made anything better.  

Cain hadn’t wanted a transfer when Abel had gotten them shot down.  But now he did, now that Cain thought he’d broken Abel and was done with him.  

“Oh,” Abel said.  

Cain ground his jaw, maybe thinking about how fast he would need to be to make another grab for Abel.  Maybe thinking about what he was going to do to Abel as soon as medical let him out.  “I’m going to kill Laius,” Cain said finally, glaring at Abel, “and the rest of those assholes are never going to fuck anyone again.  I’m going to fix this, Abel.”

“Oh.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Abel**

Cain and Laius both got two weeks in the brig with docked pay, since no one had seen it and both of them refused say what happened.  But command didn’t send Cain to the brig until medical released him, so Laius was going to be let out a full week sooner.  

Abel only went to medical once more, right before they sent Cain to the brig, when Cain was so restless and angry the medic on watch threatened to have him strapped down before he tore his stitches.  Abel stayed out of his reach in case Cain decided it was Abel’s fault this had happened, his fault that Cain was in the hospital, his fault that they’d been pushed into that room by Laius and Planchet and the rest.  

Which it was.  But Cain hadn’t said it yet, and Abel was afraid of what else he would do when he did say it.  _It’s going to happen either way._ Abel left before medical could tell him to get out for upsetting Cain.

Deimos was there, waiting outside of medical when Abel left.  He shied away from Deimos’ glance, trying to get past him as fast as possible so Deimos could just go in to see Cain and they wouldn’t have to look at each other, but Deimos turned and followed him.  Soft steps, quiet, not like the other fighters who walked as loudly as possible to scatter the navigators out of their way.  Abel would never have heard Deimos coming if he didn’t know he was there already.  

Abel pressed the button for the lift at a busy intersection, hoping someone else would get on or wait with them, but he stood alone, Deimos waiting like he hadn’t just followed all the way from medical.  And then the lift opened, and it was empty, and Abel hesitated half a heart beat.  

Show Deimos and everyone in the busy corridor how scared he was to be alone with a fighter or step into the empty lift and stand there with Deimos watching him.  Deimos would never touch him; Deimos did what Cain told him.  Abel didn’t know what else was between them, but he’d seen that much.  He’d have to hope Deimos was as afraid of Cain as he was.  Abel squared his shoulders and stepped into the lift.

Deimos followed, standing on the other side.  The side with the level buttons, the side with the door hold.  Abel watched him press the button for Cain and Abel’s floor, then another button.

The doors closed; Deimos didn’t look at him.  The lift moved; Abel watched Deimos warily, watched the numbers for the levels tick up.  

But then Deimos pressed the hold and Abel pushed himself against the wall, trying to back away before Deimos could come after him.  He’d seen how fast Deimos had cut Planchet, and his heart kicked in his chest wondering if Cain had told Deimos to do this too or if Deimos had gotten the idea himself.  

_I’m going to fix this, Abel._

Deimos finally looked at him, a cold, appraising stare as he flicked a knife down out of his sleeve.  Abel watched it, almost missing Deimos’ sad little half smile as he opened the blade.

The knife was small, thin like Deimos, and easy to miss in the cold light of the lift.  Abel shook himself and balled his fists.  He’d gotten that punch in on Cain because Cain hadn’t expected it; Cain had never seen him as enough of a threat to consider it a possibility.  He might be able to hit Deimos once, just enough to get past him and get the doors open.  Deimos stepped toward Abel, watching him.  

Appraising him as a threat like Cain never had.

Deimos came just in arm’s reach and stopped.  Abel was a little taller; he had the reach to throw the first punch, if he only knew how.  Cain had never taught him how to swing a punch, maybe suspecting Abel would use it against him eventually, if he knew what to do.  Not that it would have ever mattered.  Cain had experience and reach and he fought dirty; it would never have mattered if Abel had known how to throw the first punch because Cain would never have let him get in a second.  And Abel didn’t know how to defend himself.  Especially not from Cain.  It just would have made him feel better to think he knew how to protect himself.

But Deimos had the knife, and then it was coming towards him.

Handle first.  Deimos held it in his fingertips, the blunt, black handle towards Abel and the cold point towards himself.  Held it there and just watched Abel.  

They stood there staring at each other, Abel wary in case this was just to get his guard down.  It seemed like something Cain would do, make an offer and pull it back to keep Abel unbalanced.

But Deimos just stood there, waiting.

So Abel took it.  Fast, in case Deimos changed his mind, the blade grazing Deimos’ fingers as it left his hand.  Abel gripped it tightly, light and barely there, not like the heavy, oppressive weight of the gun Cain had made him shoot all those weeks ago.  Deimos licked blood off his fingers where the razor edge had grazed him, eyes on Abel.

Deimos stepped closer then, ignoring the knife, bringing his other hand up to brush Abel’s hair again.  His fingertips grazed Abel’s cheek, and they were cool and light, nothing like Cain’s hot, dry hands, pulling at Abel, shoving his face to get a better look at him or avoid seeing him.  Abel stood there, too shocked to pull away and pressed against the wall anyway, and then Deimos tipped his face up and waited.

Just waited.  Lips parted, their knees brushing together.  Too short to push Abel into it, his fingers resting lightly behind Abel’s ear instead of just pulling him down.  Deimos smelled different, a little like Cain but lighter, not so dark, warm and close.  Abel stood there, hand still tight around the knife as he brought his mouth down to meet Deimos’.

Cain would kill him.  

Deimos teased, tentative but just enough pressure to keep Abel there.  His mouth was cool, open and soft as Abel pressed into him, needing the comfort of being touched so badly.  Needing someone, needing to be held without being held down.  

Cain had been so angry and jealous about Praxis and Keeler and Ethos, and that had never happened, even if Abel still guiltily thought about Keeler.  Abel had never touched any of them, too afraid of trusting them.  Too afraid of Cain. 

_If you were a fighter, I’d kill you._

_But you’re just a slut._  

Cain wouldn’t kill him.  Cain had thought he could do worse than that, but he already had and it hadn’t broken Abel yet.  If Cain thought that was the worst he could do, Abel didn’t have anything to be afraid of from him.

Abel reached past Deimos, sliding away from him just enough to get the doors open, and waited to see if Deimos would follow him.  

Deimos didn’t say a word when they undressed, or kissed, or when Abel stopped to take shaky breaths and push away the disorientation of catching Cain’s smell on the pillows.  Deimos just stopped, stroking Abel’s shoulder, and didn’t push any farther until Abel kissed him again.  

Abel lay back afterwards, the tension gone from his shoulders for the first time in days as Deimos curled against him with his head on Abel’s chest.  Disorienting, like lying there with a smaller, softer version of Cain.  The comfort of having someone close without Cain’s smell, or his bullying, or his clumsy attempts at being gentle.  The comfort of having Cain without having to think about what he’d done.

Abel had expected Deimos to get up and leave afterwards, like Cain had the one time they’d slept together when they weren’t partnered, but Deimos stayed the night, rearranging himself quietly whenever Abel shifted.  Didn’t say anything when Abel woke them both up during a nightmare of being pressed suffocating into a wall.

_If you were a fighter, I’d kill you._


	19. Chapter 19

**Abel**

They never did speak.  Deimos came to the room to sleep every night, mostly just to sleep.  Deimos let Abel kiss or just fall asleep without a word, always there in the morning for a few minutes, his fingers light and cool.  

Deimos shadowed him the whole two weeks Cain was in the brig, watching but never coming close in public, appearing out of nowhere the one time Laius came towards Abel in the cafeteria, hanging just out of sight as Abel walked with Keeler or Ethos.  It was uncomfortable at first, like having Cain looking over his shoulder, but it kept Laius away.

It didn’t keep Praxis away, though.  Deimos had just left one morning and Abel ran into Praxis on the way to the lift, their rooms still close together.  Abel gave him a forced smile as they walked to the lift together; Praxis had always been kind and Ethos practically worshipped him, so he couldn’t have been as bad as most fighters.

But Praxis was still a fighter, and he waited until he had Abel trapped in the elevator to say anything.  Waited until Abel had nowhere to get away from him, just like the rest, just like Cain and Deimos, Laius and Planchet.  They were all the same.  

“I heard what Cain did to you,” Praxis said, watching the numbers on the lift and not looking at Abel.

Of course Praxis had heard.  Everyone had heard; that had been the point.

If Cain had just humiliated him in private Abel would have had somewhere to go to escape thinking about it.  If it had only been what Cain originally threatened and not this new constant public humiliation he wouldn’t have to be reminded of it every time Keeler gave him a pitying look or some fighter sneered at him in the hallway, but he couldn’t even get away from it with Cain locked away.  If it had just been private, Abel could have had some control over who knew and who he asked for help, but he didn’t even have that.

“He’s a psychopath,” Praxis said quietly.  “You should have gotten the transfer when you could.”

When Praxis had offered to help, he meant.  When Praxis could have been the brave rescuer, like Cain thought he’d rescued Abel from Laius.  They all got to play the white knight when it suited them.  Abel wondered what Praxis thought he’d rescued Ethos from.  Cain, probably.

“What do you want, Praxis?” Abel demanded, crossing his arms, wishing the lift would move faster.  He didn’t think Praxis would come after him like Cain would, but he couldn’t tell with fighters any more.  He’d never thought Cain would do what he did, but Abel didn’t trust any of them any more.  “You didn’t help when I asked for it, and now you want me to be grateful to hear it was my own fault?”

Praxis came towards him, trying to put a hand on him.  “I didn’t mean it that way.  You just didn’t have to be stuck with him, you could have done something.”  Praxis didn’t offer to help now; he wouldn’t try to rescue Abel again, now that everyone thought he was broken and ruined and worthless.  All the fighters were the same, only interested if they got something out of it.  Now that Abel wasn’t worth fucking, he wasn’t worth helping.

Praxis reached for him.  “Don’t touch me,” Abel snapped, pulling away, but Praxis followed, taller than Laius and leaning into Abel’s space, grabbing him by the shoulder because what Abel wanted had never mattered to anyone.  Praxis’ hand was heavy, holding too tight, standing too close, like Cain had when it started.  

_Get on your fucking knees._

“Abel, we’re not all like that.” 

“Get your hands off me,” Abel said, trying to make it sound more confident than he felt.  

Praxis’ hand tightened instead and he looked worried, but he leaned over Abel, pressing him against the wall.  “Look, it doesn’t have to be this way.  Deimos isn’t your friend, he’s as bad as Cain,” Praxis said quietly, but he didn’t give Abel a way out, just trapped him there in the corner.  

“Deimos never pushed me against a wall,” Abel said slowly, even though it was a lie, but it shook Praxis and got him angry, instead of this fake concern.  Angry at being compared to Cain, angry at have his rescue rejected.

“You’re just going to let them both keep doing this to you—“

“Let me go or I’ll tell Cain,” Abel said as the elevator came to a stop.  That did it, the threat of the doors opening and showing everyone Praxis’ hypocrisy or the threat of Cain coming after his property finally getting Praxis to back off when what Abel wanted didn’t matter.  Why would anyone ever care what Abel wanted, when they had Cain to be afraid of instead.

Praxis finally took his hand off Abel’s shoulder, looking disgusted as he turned towards the door.  “Don’t come to me when you regret it later, Abel,” Praxis said, petty and mean now that his bluff had been called.  

Keeler was there when the lift doors open, starting to fuss as soon as he caught sight of Praxis’ stiff shoulders and Abel pressed into the corner.  Praxis brushed past Keeler’s glare, and Keeler gathered Abel up to pull him back to the lab.  Keeler had obviously been on his way somewhere, but he’d been going out of his way to fret over Abel, treating him like glass.  Abel let him, tired of it but not ready for another fight with someone who thought they cared.  

He skipped lunch and dinner, staying in the lab as long as he could to avoid everyone, Laius’ predatory looks, Praxis’ resentment, Deimos’ hovering, and just let Keeler fuss over his numbers.  But he had to go to bed eventually, and Deimos was there, waiting outside the lab to walk him back.  Abel couldn’t get rid of Cain, and he couldn’t get rid of Deimos, but he could shake his head at his door and refuse to sleep with Deimos.  

The little fighter just took it with a shrug and left Abel there alone.  No pushing, no demands, no resentment when Abel wouldn’t play along.  Deimos came back the next night, and the next, and Abel let him in the third night because he couldn’t sleep through the nightmares without someone there.  

Then Cain’s two weeks in the brig were done and Deimos was gone, like nothing had happened.


	20. Chapter 20

**Cain**

Still with the fucking nightmares.  

Cain had gotten a week of drugged out, shitty sleep in medical, and two weeks of cold, restless, shitty sleep in the brig planning out how he was going to gut any bastard who laid a hand on Abel while Cain was locked up.  And Abel was still having his fucking nightmares, trying to skitter out of the room when he came back to find Cain having his first smoke in three weeks.  Balking when Cain made him shower before bed.  Keeping Cain from getting any goddamn sleep for the first time in three weeks with his fucking nightmares.  

Cain lay on his back with the sheet thrown away, Abel pressing into him shaky and hot.  He’d let Abel grab his hand in his sleep, Abel grasping after something desperately and whimpering.  So Cain lay there holding Abel’s hand until he calmed down, but that meant lying too close together in the claustrophobic heat of the little room.  Abel still wouldn’t touch him when he was awake, but couldn’t sleep unless he was being held.  He’d thought Abel would have calmed down by now, from getting enough sleep to get over it or from being grateful to have Cain back to keep Laius away.  Either would have been fine if Abel just quit acting like Cain was going to come after him any second.

Cain had almost drifted off again when Abel sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes until he froze, realizing he’d grabbed Cain’s hand.  Cain didn’t move, didn’t want to spook Abel.  He might not be able to get a transfer, but Abel could stay blank as long as he wanted, not putting out and making Cain miserable with his skittishness and his staring, broken and boring with all the fight gone out of him.  Wouldn’t do either of them any good to spook Abel now.

Abel’s breathing was shallow and ragged as he untangled their fingers, careful like he thought Cain was still asleep.  If only, but Cain lay there with his face turned away, so they wouldn’t have to talk about it.

Abel scooted away then, putting his back against the wall.  Cain listened as Abel pulled his knees up and wrapped himself with the sheet, like that night confined to quarters.  Abel took a couple of deep breaths, and Cain waited to hear him calm himself down, but Abel’s breathing got more ragged, not less.  

The sound of someone trying to cry quietly in the dark, without anyone hearing; Cain knew the sound of that pretty well from basic.  You didn’t acknowledge that sound, didn’t look a guy in the face in the morning if you thought you knew who it was because everyone did it sooner or later.  You just learned to get over it and man the fuck up.  Or you didn’t, but Cain wasn’t one of the assholes who had washed out.

Things were different for navigators, though.  They didn’t teach navigators how to deal with this bullshit in academy.  Just math and geometry and wiring, all that useless shit that got you through exams and repairs and not much else.  

Cain ground his jaw.  It was his goddamn fault all of this had happened; his fault they’d gotten shot down, his fault Abel had gotten transferred to central, his fault Abel had gotten bold and stupid enough to be a problem that needed fixing.  

He sat up, raking a hand through his hair to help him focus and cover the sound of Abel sucking a ragged breath as he tried to stop his crying.  Cain waited until Abel’s breath evened out to say anything.  No fucking reason to embarrass him on top of everything else.  

“You awake?” Cain asked, trying to be nice about it, but Abel drew a sharp breath like he’d been slapped.  He could see Abel faintly, his pale skin standing out against the dark wall.  His little navigator huddled in on himself, and Cain couldn’t remember when Abel had started looking so fucking fragile.  He wanted to shake Abel and make him snap back to his usual snotty, prissy self, but thought he might just break and Cain would end up on Bering’s shit list again with no navigator.  

Cain had to make this work, even if he didn’t know how.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Abel said, his voice even, the most he’d said all at once since Laius had shoved them in that room.  In the dark, if Cain hadn’t been awake to hear Abel sniffling, he’d never have known how fragile Abel was right then.  Abel would be a good liar if he didn’t blush all the goddamn time.

Cain grunted and dug around on the side of the bed for his smokes.  He could feel Abel watching him.  It had been like that in the hospital, Abel tracking everything Cain did when he thought Cain wasn’t looking.  Glancing away when Cain looked at him.  Cain got a cigarette lit, rubbing his eyes to show Abel he was just tired and not pissed.  “You want a smoke?” Cain asked.  He didn’t think Abel had smoked since they’d been reassigned; the room had smelled different when he got out of the brig, but not like cigarettes.  Something familiar Cain couldn’t quite place.

Abel nodded silently, his eyes big in the dim light from Cain’s cigarette as he took a deep drag of it to get another smoke lit.  Smoking would help Abel calm the fuck down; the tobacco was shitty and harsh, but it was better than nothing.  Abel took it with his arm stretched as far out as he could, trying to stay as far away as possible.  Cain held the cigarette by his fingertips so they wouldn’t have to touch, the cherry of it almost burning his fingers as Abel took it.

Abel still smoked like a girl.  Cain watched him and thought about giving Abel something else to put his mouth around, being done with this flinching bullshit, done with dancing around Abel’s feelings.  

Why shouldn’t he?  Abel couldn’t get a transfer out and Bering had run out of other potential navigators, so they were stuck together no matter what Cain did.  Cain hadn’t gotten laid in the month since Laius pushed them in that room, distracted thinking about Abel’s desperate pleading and stupid, misplaced trust the one time since then he’d gone looking for Deimos to fuck.

He could just push Abel down and ignore him, get it over with like before.

“You still having nightmares?” Cain asked instead.  

Abel just stared at him, frozen in the dim light off their cigarettes.  _I didn’t think you’d noticed_.  Abel must have thought he was stupid with everything he thought Cain didn’t notice.  That was the problem with fucking navigators.  They over thought everything, needing to hold hands and talk about it, thinking they were so much smarter and that not whining about every goddamn thing made you an idiot.  Cain should have just stuck to fucking Deimos and not gotten tangled up with Abel and his neediness and feelings.

Cain took a drag on his smoke, Abel shaking himself out of whatever he was staring at.

“You just have to get over it, princess,” Cain said finally, when Abel wouldn’t say anything.  Best advice he’d ever gotten, from the one instructor in basic who hadn’t been a complete asshole.  _Get over it and gut the fucker later_ , but Abel didn’t need to hear that part, not when Cain was the bastard who needed gutting.  “You just make yourself a target looking scared all the time, and if it’s the worst thing that ever happens to you you’ll be fine,” Cain said, repeating.  Benedict, that had been his name.  Cain hadn’t thought of him in years.  Mean son of a bitch, but not when it had mattered.  “The nightmares stop after a while.”

Shit.  He hadn’t meant to say that.  Abel gave him a look so clear Cain could hear something click in place and he didn’t fucking like it.  They’d gotten into this fucking mess because they knew each other too well already; Abel didn’t need to know him any better.  

“Did you—“ Abel started.  

“Get over here,” Cain snapped, just to cut him off.  

Abel startled back, but he’d stupidly pushed himself into the corner and didn’t have anywhere else to go.  Rookie mistake, thinking it protected your back, but it just let you get hemmed in easier.  

Abel was useless in a fight, but Cain thought about hauling him up and taking a swing at him just to make Abel snap out of it.  If they couldn’t fuck, maybe he could get a reaction out of Abel by getting him pissed off, go easy and let Abel punch him in the jaw a few more times to get over this bullshit.  The punch when Abel had been worked up about Ethos only left a two-day bruise, barely there because Abel didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.  

Cain could let Abel punch him a few times if it would help get him over this.

But Abel did what he was told, first reaching to grind out his half-done cigarette in the ash cup, then easing himself back over to sit next to Cain against the wall.  Not touching, though, Abel had gone out of his way to not be touched ever since the night with Laius, even though Cain could tell from the way Abel hugged an arm to himself that he wanted to be held.  

Just not by Cain.  

But it was just too fucking bad, because if Keeler wouldn’t fix Abel then Cain would have to be better than nothing.  Cain pushed himself closer to Abel, even though his bad leg protested it, and put an arm over Abel’s shoulders, even though Abel tensed up.  At least Abel wasn’t so blank any more.  Cain could take angry and bitchy so long as he wasn’t blank and empty.  Abel sat there shivering with tension while Cain finished his cigarette, and Cain braced himself to be shoved away when he reached past Abel to stub out his smoke in the ash cup.  But Abel just held still, his breath warm on Cain’s neck as he leaned over.

Cain sat back up, keeping his arm around Abel to let him calm down.  So fucking suspicious, like he thought Cain was going to do it all over again or that it had been his idea in the first place, as if Cain had ever needed anything more than a look to get Abel to fall into bed.  

Like Laius hadn’t pushed him into it as much as Abel, like he’d wanted to do it any more than Abel had.

They sat there like that in silence until Abel started to nod off against the wall.  Cain let him, watching Abel’s blond head droop as Cain sat there thinking.  He shifted just enough to get Abel’s head on his shoulder, but that woke the little blond up.  Abel startled, like he’d woken up with Cain groping him instead of just trying to brush Abel’s goddamn hair out of his face.  

Cain held him in place, brushing Abel’s hair down to ease the tension out of him.  “Relax, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you,” Cain said, resting his head back against the wall as Abel took a couple of deep breaths.  Cain closed his eyes, looking for the right lie to make Abel get past this.  The little blond shifted, pressing his cheek to Cain’s shoulder, the first time in a month he’d touched Cain without being made to.  “I’m going to fix this,” Cain lied, and wished it were true.


	21. Chapter 21

**Abel**

The next night Cain pushed him to the shower, but followed for the first time.  Abel faltered, stumbling with Cain’s hand on his back, disoriented with the vertigo of being pushed into a little room with Cain behind him again.  

They’d fallen back into the same routine as before, Cain pushing Abel into the shower every night whether he needed it or not, whether he wanted it or not, like Cain couldn’t stand the smell of him any more.  Like Cain couldn’t make himself touch Abel unless he was scrubbed raw and held down.  

Most nights Abel stood there until the water ran cold, just to have somewhere to be alone where he wasn’t fussed over by Keeler and Praxis or followed by Deimos, where he could trust that Laius or Planchet or anyone else wouldn’t come after him when he turned his back.  

Except for Cain.  There were no locks except for the door to the corridor; why would there be?  They were a team again.  He didn’t have a way to lock out Cain, nowhere to go to be alone that Cain couldn’t get to, nothing about him Cain didn’t know about.  Just the knife Deimos had given him, hidden at the bottom of his drawer and cold every time his fingers brushed it.  Abel didn’t think Cain knew about it, unsure what Cain had or hadn’t told Deimos to do but very sure of what Cain would do when he found out about it.  

Abel backed against one wall, watching Cain and ready to swing a punch if he had to.  Cain just closed the door behind them and started taking off his jacket, careful to stay out of Abel’s space even if he couldn’t stay out of reach.  It was a tiny room; there was no way to avoid each other even if they wanted to, but Cain moved slowly, only making small movements as he undressed. 

Abel couldn’t tell if this was an apology, or an invitation, or a threat.  Couldn’t remember if there had ever been any difference for Cain.

He stood there and turned his face away as Cain stripped naked.  Tried to keep his breathing even as Cain turned his  back and got in the shower, watching Abel out of the corner of his eye without saying anything.  

Abel put a hand on the door and Cain didn’t say anything, just watched him through the glass as he tilted his head back into the water.  Abel took a deep breath.  He could just leave.  He could just lie down, try to fall asleep and wait to see how angry Cain would be when he came to bed.  Abel could just leave.

Leave and show Cain how afraid he was, after Cain had let his guard down last night.  _The nightmares stop after a while._ He thought he understood what that meant; it didn’t excuse anything, but it explained a lot, even if Cain would never come out and say it.  

Abel wondered who could ever have given Cain nightmares.  

Maybe Laius.  

Maybe it had been better that way; they had to trust each other.  Cain had trusted him enough to at least try to put down his macho bullshit since the transfer back.  Abel had to trust that Cain had stepped in to keep him safe as much as to claim him.  

The alternative was just too hard to think about.  They had to trust each other. 

Cain watched as Abel unbuttoned his jacket slowly, hanging it up so it wouldn’t wrinkle.  Cain leaned against the wall of the shower when Abel stepped in, making enough room in the little space so they didn’t have to touch.

The skin of Cain’s hip was hot under Abel’s fingers with the water running over them both, and Cain didn’t move as Abel tilted his face up.  

They hadn’t kissed for a month, since the last time Cain had wanted sex, when Abel had closed his eyes and tried to pretend that everything was fine and nothing had happened, when he’d tried to not think about it and let Cain do whatever he thought he had to do to make things normal again.  Abel had wanted to want it, wanted to want Cain, wanted to shut out Laius and Planchet and let Cain be a comfort, but he couldn’t get away from Cain’s smell.  

But in the shower they smelled the same, just soap and water.  Clean.  If Abel closed his eyes he could pretend he was alone, or with someone else.  Maybe Deimos, or Keeler.  Someone safe.  

Cain just stood there, one hand braced against the wall, but otherwise not moving.  Abel focused on the water beading on Cain’s collarbone, watched it roll down his shoulder.  

Abel kissed him with his eyes closed, easing into it and trying not to think about anything.  Cain hadn’t wanted it to happen any more than he had; Abel had to believe that or he’d make himself crazy with paranoia, over thinking Cain’s attempts to be gentle and all the promises he’d made.  

Not that Cain had apologized.  Not that he would ever apologize.

Abel wondered if Cain thought he’d even done anything wrong, but he pushed that thought away and concentrated on holding himself still as Cain put an arm over his shoulders.  Abel told himself that he wanted this.  He’d volunteered because he’d thought Cain just hadn’t understood why he’d frightened Ethos, because he’d thought Cain was just bluster and intimidation without anything to back it up.  

Because he’d thought he understood Cain. 

Cain put a hand on his waist and pulled Abel into him, both of them leaning against the wall with the water pouring over them.  With Cain’s arm around him, Abel could mostly convince himself this was safe, could mostly pretend they were back right after the transfer, when everything had seemed better and he’d wanted Cain so badly.  Cain’s wet hair brushed his cheek as Cain bent to lick drops of water off his shoulder, his mouth slow and his hand steady on Abel’s shivering thigh.  

Abel swallowed, breathing slowly to calm himself down.  He tried to focus on doing what Cain needed instead of what Abel wanted himself.  Cain needed to be in charge, and he needed to think he’d been the rescuer, not what Abel needed rescuing from.  Abel didn’t think Cain was hurtful because he wanted to be, just because he didn’t know any better.  

 _Get over it, princess_.  

Cain didn’t try to be horrible, he just was.  Abel didn’t really know if that made anything better.  

Cain’s hands were slow, his movements careful like when he’d undressed, waiting for something, and Abel realized he hadn’t moved since he’d put a hand on Cain’s hip.  Abel kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the feeling of Cain’s lips on his neck and the feeling of his hand on Abel’s waist, pressing them together.  Cain was hard already, but didn’t push, just held Abel there, his mouth ghosting over the veins of Abel’s neck.

Abel put a hand in Cain’s hair to bring him back up to kiss.  Cain needed him; he’d asked to be taken back, even if he hadn’t made himself actually ask.  Cain could have done anything afterwards, but he’d only tried to kiss.  Like now, Cain just waited for Abel to move.  

Abel skimmed a hand down between them, tentatively stroking the tip of Cain’s cock.  It was better facing Cain; Abel had some control that way, could pretend he could stop this if he wanted, like he could control where Cain’s hands went.  Cain bit his lip, just a light graze of teeth, maybe testing what Abel wanted.  Abel answered with a sigh he hadn’t meant to make; it was a little return to normal, to before, when Cain’s aggressiveness and possessiveness had made it seem like he cared.  

Cain brushed Abel’s hand away, reaching down to stroke Abel as he was getting hard.  It was better than last time.  Standing together with his eyes closed, without Cain’s weight on him, without Cain’s smell, Abel could keep the panic down.  Lean into it and pretend he wanted this.  Abel put his head on Cain’s shoulder, letting Cain hold him up and stroke him harder.  He was just so tired, so tired of being afraid of Cain, when they both just wanted things to be normal again.

It was the first time since Deimos he’d been even close to wanting sex, and Abel tried to forget that this was Cain, tried to pretend it was someone safe.  Deimos.  Or better, Keeler, not a fighter, as tall as Cain and protective but not so frighteningly overwhelming.  

Abel had almost convinced himself this was safe, that he was with someone safe, when Cain spun him, pushing Abel face first against the cold wall.  Cain pressed against his back, hard and demanding, his mouth still soft on Abel’s neck.  

The wall chilled him, Cain’s hand sliding over his cock slowly as Abel’s knees started shaking, because last time it hadn’t been enough that Cain had made him take it in front of Laius and the rest, this time Cain was going to make Abel pretend he wanted to be hurt like that. Cain wrapped an arm around his chest, keeping him there, and might have said something, but Abel couldn’t hear over the sound of the shower and the blood pounding in his ears.  Cain’s weight kept him pinned there just like last time, the floor tilting wildly and water spraying in his face.    

“Relax, sweetheart,” Cain murmured, and Abel heard that, right in his ear, Cain’s breath soft and warm on his neck like this was just sex and nothing else.  

 _Me or all of them, sweetheart._  

Abel got his hands between his face and the wall, to keep from having his lips cut by his teeth when Cain shoved his face into the wall again, his throat closed and raw as Cain pushed into him slowly, making him feel every second of it this time.  

_It’s going to happen either way._

No pain yet, but that would come later, when Cain decided he was done being gentle and was going to put Abel back in his place, for thinking he could ever be safe or have control over anything.  It was all a mistake, he should never have volunteered for the transfer, should have reported Cain the first night—

“Shit, Abel, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Cain growled, pulling out of him suddenly and pushing himself back against the other wall.  Abel stood there shivering, the water washing over him where Cain had been.  Like nothing had happened.

Abel swallowed, leaning his forehead on the wall, trying to say something past the dry knot in his throat.  “You said—you said you’d stop—“

“Fuck, I did stop,” Cain snapped, spinning him so Abel had to face him, water sheeting over both of them.  “You can’t get in here begging to be fucked and then stand there frozen if you don’t want it.”  _You don’t get to change your mind._  

Abel hunched his shoulders against Cain’s glare, waiting.  He could defend himself from someone harmless like Praxis when he had the threat of Cain to back him up, but he couldn’t here, trapped with Cain and no room to protect himself even if he knew how.  

Cain made his disgusted face, the one he made when he thought Abel was being stupid and weak, turning off the water and throwing the shower open.  He got out and scrubbed a towel over his hair, scowling at himself in the mirror.    

Abel stood there shivering in the sudden cold until Cain glared and threw a towel at him.  “Get out of the damn shower and go to bed, I’m not going to fuck you,” Cain said.

“You’re not?” Abel asked stupidly, embarrassed at how relieved and pitifully grateful it sounded even to him.  

Cain glared again and leaned into the shower, towel wrapped around his hips now.  “ _Abel_ ,” Cain snapped, and Abel flinched away from him, grateful to have at least a towel to hide behind.  “I’m not going to fuck you until you want it, not now, not ever.  You have to say something if you want to stop.”

Abel blushed at the floor.  “I didn’t think you’d—“

“I never fucking—“ Cain started, grabbing him by the arm, hauling him out stumbling and Abel just panicked.  He swung and caught Cain in the jaw almost by accident, scrambling for the door as Cain reeled back against the wall.  

Abel dropped his towel and grabbed after clothes in the bedroom, stupidly forgetting his uniform in the bathroom with his desperation to get away from Cain.  He’d just gotten pants pulled on when Cain came out with a hand pressed to his mouth.

“You need to stop getting better at that,” Cain mumbled.  He pressed at his jaw, scowling at Abel, but stayed safely across the room.  “What the fuck is the matter with you, you think I want to fuck you when you’re too scared to say no?  You think I wanted to fuck you in front of Laius and the rest of those assholes?”

Abel hesitated for too long, too shocked to say anything because sometimes he did think Cain wanted to do it; he’d threatened to do it and he’d come from it.  They stared at each other and Cain went from annoyed to his blank anger as he read Abel’s expression, all the distrust and fear and suspicion, Abel’s face betraying exactly what he thought of Cain, making Cain face what he’d done.  They were all the same, Cain and Praxis, thinking they could be the rescuer when they wanted and angry when Abel wouldn’t go along with it.

Abel hesitated too long and Cain came after him again, shaking him against the wall, his fingers digging into Abel’s arms hard enough to bruise.  The back of Abel’s head snapped against the wall, rattling him with Cain snarling in his face, too much, and Abel realized it was his own voice sobbing incoherently, too afraid of Cain to even get his hands up between them, too afraid to even try to defend himself, but it didn’t matter because Cain was hauling his wrists up, trapping him against the wall again.

“Just shut up, shut the fuck up,” Cain snapped, pressing him against the wall.  “It was the only fucking way to get us both out of there, Abel, you don’t know what Laius would have done to you.  It was the only fucking way to get you out, I didn’t want to do it any more than you did.”

Abel took a ragged breath and another, trying to steady himself past the pain and adrenaline.  He looked Cain in the eye for the first time in a month, shocked into reality again by Cain’s angry desperation.  

“You didn’t?” Abel finally asked, managing to get back control of his voice.  “You swear?”  He didn’t think Cain had ever lied to him.  Cain had promised not to sleep with Deimos when Abel had asked.  Even if Cain wasn’t kind, he was at least honest.

Cain turned away, pushing Abel against the wall, but not as hard as he could have.  “Fuck no.  I don’t need a goddamn rapist to tell me how to fuck my navigator,” Cain said, easing himself down to sit on the mattress.  Looking defeated, not angry, his head down.  “You need another fucking promise, princess?” he asked, not looking at Abel.  

Abel couldn’t think of what to say, so he didn’t say anything.  Just stood there, looking down at Cain’s bent head, disoriented and off balance with the sudden whiplash in Cain’s moods.

“What the fuck do you want, Abel?” Cain said finally, still not looking up, sounding tired and frustrated.

Abel looked for something safe to want, something Cain would let him want.  “I just—I just want us to be normal again.”

“Fuck, Abel, I know.  I know, I know,” Cain said, and he sounded as broken as Abel felt, so he sat down next to Cain and let him put an arm around his shoulders again, because Cain seemed like he needed someone and they were all each other had.


	22. Chapter 22

**Cain**

They weren’t back to normal, but they were better, at least.  Abel still didn’t want to be fucked, but he let himself be touched, and he sometimes gave Cain a shy smile before he remembered he was supposed to be scared.  Cain hadn’t gotten Laius alone again yet, but he would.  Just had to be patient; the fucker would make a mistake sooner or later and then things would be better with Abel.  Cain could wait as long as he needed if he had Abel calmed the fuck down in the meantime.

Abel was still too fucking slow, never quite turning his back on Cain, but he let himself be stroked hard in bed or in the shower if they could do it facing.  Cain sucked him off a couple times, letting Abel stand while Cain knelt with his bad leg aching, Abel’s fingers twisting anxiously in his hair.  Like fucking a virgin again, if Abel hadn’t been a slutty virgin the first time around.  But watching Abel finally get off was better than nothing, and definitely better than getting punched in the mouth again.

Not as good as fucking, since Cain had to jerk himself off while he concentrated on not spooking Abel, the little blond still nervous every time Cain got hard.  So usually Cain got himself off kneeling with his forehead on Abel’s hip, stroking himself and thinking about how good it would be when Abel finally wanted to be fucked again.  

Cain thought about pushing him to fuck next time, getting Abel close and not letting him come unless they fucked, but it would be better when Abel got up the courage to beg for it again.  It would be better with Abel on top, riding him even if the little bitch took it too goddamn slow like last time, so Cain wouldn’t have to worry about Abel panicking again and punching him in the nose.  Then Cain wouldn’t have to think about Abel pleading for it to stop with his face pressed to the wall, just whether he would take too damn long.  

Abel caught him by surprise one night, pushing him away when they were both close, and Cain looked up to see what he’d done wrong.  He watched Abel, wary of getting sucker punched again, but the little blond just sucked his lip guiltily and eased himself down to the floor to kneel.  Cain winced at the twinge in his bad leg as Abel pushed him over to make room, but let the little blond lean into him and kiss his neck.  Abel’s hands were slow running over Cain’s bare chest to his hips, awkwardly leaning together so Abel could avoid putting weight against Cain’s bad leg.  

Even worse than fucking a virgin again, but Cain kept his mouth shut and let Abel wrap a hand around his cock, even if he was too slow, even if he was jittery like he wanted to bolt again, because if Cain could just wait this out Abel might beg for it later.  

And fuck was he glad he kept his mouth shut when Abel gave him a nervous glance and bent to suck at the hollow of his hip, letting Cain lean back with Abel’s warm mouth finally on his cock again.  Abel was too slow, stroking more with his slicked hand than with his mouth, but it had been so long Cain didn’t give a fuck, letting Abel take his time rolling his tongue over just the tip even though Cain wanted to fist his hand in Abel’s blond hair and teach him how to give head again.  Probably a good way to get his dick bitten off, though, if he made Abel panic just then.

Abel caught him by surprise again with a light graze of teeth and a hard suck after it, all soft tongue when he glanced up to see what he was getting away with.  Cain ground his jaw, Abel’s teasing and his teeth just on the edge of too much after how long it had been, the little blond finally getting bolder.  Teeth and then the hot swirl of Abel’s tongue following it, sucking just a little deeper every time Abel brought his mouth down.  Teasing and peeking up to see if he was doing it right.

Cain tried to keep his stupid mouth closed and not ruin it, to not scare Abel off and end up with the little blond panicking and another month of cold showers alone, but couldn’t quite make himself shut up.  It had been too long, and here was Abel finally wanting something, but Cain had to ruin it because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut.

“You want to fuck?” Cain asked, wishing as he said it that he hadn’t, but hoping Abel would finally want to.

Abel sat up suddenly, taking his mouth and slicked hand away, looking worried and leaving Cain sprawled out naked like an idiot.  “Do we have to?” Abel asked, leaning away.  Cain cursed himself out for pushing too hard and for giving a fuck about what Abel wanted, the scared, skittish look on his face saying he’d do it, but only if Cain made him.  

“No, baby, we don’t have to,” Cain said, anything to get Abel back to sucking cock.  He reached out to stroke Abel’s face before remembering Abel didn’t want to be touched, but the little blond didn’t pull away this time.  He sucked his lip, watching Cain’s face and letting the tension ease out of his shoulders with a couple of deep breaths.  Cain kept his hand on Abel’s cheek, letting him lean into it as Abel watched him, thinking.

Abel turned his face and caught a couple of Cain’s fingers in his mouth, sucking like he should have been sucking cock, and Cain groaned without meaning to.  Before he’d have just bent Abel over and given him a good slap on the ass to show him who was in charge, but with Abel on edge these days Cain would probably just end up with a broken nose if he tried that.  He could wait it out, though, let Abel do what he wanted now and given him a good hard fucking some other time.  Later.  When they were back to normal.

“Can I be on top?” Abel asked finally, letting Cain’s fingers go.

“You don’t have to, princess.”  Not if he was going to do a repeat of the fucking shower, asking for it and then panicking when Cain lost control of his temper.  Not if Cain had to watch him squeeze his eyes shut, not if Cain had to pretend he got off on fucking someone who didn’t want it.  

Abel chewed his lip.  “I know.  I want to be on top, though,” Abel said, blushing, but he sucked Cain’s fingers again and Cain closed his eyes against the hot, tight feel of it.  

“Baby, we can do whatever the fuck you want,” Cain said, sitting up and pulling Abel over to straddle him, ignoring the pain of Abel’s weight on his leg because what the hell did he care about a little ache if they were finally fucking again.  

Abel huddled against him, face against his neck and too much like cuddling as Cain slicked his hand and fucked Abel with a couple fingers to get him ready.  

Cain let him. Let Abel huddle against him if it made him feel safe enough to want to be fucked again.  If Abel needed someone that bad and Cain was all he had, Cain could deal with a little hand holding during sex for a while if it got them back to normal.  

Abel didn’t shiver so bad like last time they’d tried it, so maybe at least one of them could get off before Abel decided he didn’t want to any more.  Abel eased himself up and let Cain guide him back down, Abel’s nose in his hair and his soft breathing too warm on Cain’s ear as Cain pushed up into him.  Cain just let him huddle there, clinging and too needy, not moving.  Because what the fuck did it matter with how tight and hot Abel was, all his weight keeping Cain pinned there deep in him.  

It had been so long Cain wouldn’t have lasted long enough anyway if Abel wanted it fast, so Cain put one hand on Abel’s ass to keep him still and put the other around Abel’s cock.  Teased with his thumb on the tip to drag a little whimper out of the blond.  Stroked him long and slow, taking his time to focus on Abel’s breathing and make sure the little shivers were because he wanted it.

Getting Abel off without fucking him was better than he’d ever thought it would be, especially when Abel sucked his ear and gasped that he wanted it faster.  With Abel holding still, Cain could feel every heart beat and shudder as he got Abel close again, rocking together.  Cain let Abel cling to him, arm around him and kissing the soft spot under his ear to keep him calm.  Held Abel close with his lips on the little blond’s ear and got him off with long, slow strokes, listening to Abel’s breath come faster until the little blond arched his back and pushed them both over the edge.

Abel gasped, rolling his hips to push himself up into Cain’s hand and down onto his cock, and they were both coming, Cain taking Abel’s ass in both his hands to finally thrust into Abel’s tight shuddering.  Abel’s skin was hot and shivery under his hands, but the little blond didn’t shy away, just clung tighter and turned his mouth to suck just above Cain’s collarbone.

Abel sighed as they both came down from it and Cain just held him there.  Both arms around Abel, their faces pressed to each other’s necks.  Too much like cuddling, too close and sentimental, but Cain was too boneless and floating from his first fuck in a month to give a damn.  

Cain almost yanked Abel back as he pulled away, but the little blond grabbed a pillow and pulled Cain down to lay beside him, putting his head on Cain’s shoulder and curling against him.  Abel fell asleep like that, but Cain lay awake too long, staring at the ceiling and thinking, fingers in Abel’s pale hair.


	23. Chapter 23

**Cain**

They started fucking in the morning again. Abel was usually too skittish to want it at night because he was wound up with every asshole fighter who had a problem with his own navigator leering at him since it had gotten around that Cain had fucked Abel into obedience. Which wouldn't have been such a fucking problem if Cain had been able to drag the little blond away from Laius and just put it around that he'd done it in private instead of having to do the thing in front of those assholes, or if Cain didn't give a fuck what Abel thought. As it was he had to spend all fucking day watching Abel's back to keep the assholes away or else spend most of every night letting Abel be pissy and uncooperative.

The mornings were different, though, Abel done with his nightmares but still needy, so Cain took advantage of it while it lasted. He fucked Abel first thing most days, curled together before either of them was all the way awake, taking his time when he could. Better this way, with Abel not shaking when Cain put a hand on his ass or in his hair, not watching so close every time Cain made a move.

He almost wished there was something they could do to get confined to quarters again, so he could take all the time Abel wanted to fuck slow and then just lay there afterwards with his nose pressed to Abel's warm neck, but they had shit to do now that they were back on active rotation again. He let Abel pull away and they got dressed, still smelling like sex.

They weren't back to normal, but Abel was starting to relax like after the transfer, when the most Cain had worried about was whether he'd be able to get it up twice in a night. So he just let Abel be wary and tried to not push too hard as he waited for the little blond to get dressed, like there was any fucking difference between uniform jackets and undershirts all the same color.

They were almost ready to go when Abel finally picked a jacket, flipping something out of his drawer. The little blond grabbed after it, but it landed on Cain's feet. He didn't recognize it at first, would have known it anywhere else if it hadn't come from Abel's drawer.

Cain picked it up as Abel started to scramble away.

A fucking butterfly knife; lucky if Abel didn't cut his own fingers off fucking around with it. Cain turned it over in his hand, Abel panicking like Cain had just walked in on him bending over for Praxis. He stepped toward the little blond slowly, watching Abel pull on his jacket as he backed towards the door, like he thought he was going to bolt out of there.

"What is this, princess? Where the fuck did you get this?" Cain asked, trying to be reasonable about it, but Abel stared at him, trying to get the door open with one jittery hand.

Whatever Abel thought he was in trouble for couldn't be good, if he thought he had to hide it and get the fuck out of there as soon as Cain found out about it. Cain caught him by the collar and shoved the little blond into the wall with one hand, holding the knife in his other. He cursed himself out for thinking Abel still needed to be coddled and protected after more than a month of bullshit.

_I didn't think you'd notice._

Abel thought he was a fucking idiot, thought Cain would never find out about whatever the fuck this was right in front of him.

"It's nothing—" Abel choked against the fist Cain pressed to his chest.

"It doesn't fucking look like nothing," Cain said slowly, flicking the knife open next to Abel's face. Not close enough to cut him. Not unless Abel moved his head. "What do you think you're doing with this? You think you're going to scare off Laius and Planchet with this?"

At least that would make some goddamn sense; he'd paced off every inch of the brig thinking about what would happen to Abel without Cain there to protect him. He should have shown Abel how to use a knife before command sent him to the brig, but he'd been so fucking angry and distracted planning out how to gut Laius himself he hadn't thought about it. He'd told Deimos to watch Abel's back, so at least there would be someone—

Deimos.

Abel and Deimos.

The way Deimos had creepily touched Abel's hair when Cain had been laid up in medical, right there in front of him, the way Deimos stood too close to Abel when Cain had been distracted beating the shit out of Laius the first time. Abel still couldn't make himself to look Cain in the eye, but he'd fucked Deimos just fine. He'd never even thought about Deimos because he'd been too worried about Abel running off to Keeler or getting dragged off by Laius; the real problem had been right under his nose, had been for who knew how long.

"You fucked Deimos."

He wasn't sure until Abel's face froze; Abel was a terrible fucking liar, and this wasn't the hurt indignation when he'd denied fucking Keeler. He stared at Cain with big eyes, guilty, scared.

 _I never slept with anyone but you._ Maybe it had been true then, but it sure as fuck wasn't true any more. And with fucking Deimos of all people.

"How was it, princess? Creepy as fuck?" Cain demanded. Abel tried to slide away, pushing himself along the wall, but he still didn't have the good goddamn sense to protect himself. Cain let him. He'd push himself into the corner and then Cain would keep him pinned there, beat the shit out of him and fuck him so hard he'd never forget who he belonged to.

Fucking Deimos. Anyone else and he could have let Abel out of it if he just said he'd been forced, but Deimos knew better and Abel sure as hell should have known better.

And after he'd made Cain promise to not fuck Deimos again. The little whore just turned around and fucked Deimos himself, and who knew how long they'd both been going behind Cain's back, thinking he was a goddamn idiot all this time while he treated Abel like glass and let the little bitch push him around with his demands and his stupid fucking feelings.

_I didn't think you'd notice._

"You _fucking_ _slut_." Cain threw the knife away, too angry to trust himself to not use it. "Who else did you get on your knees for, you little cunt?" He'd given Abel plenty of time to get over the bullshit with Laius. Abel had taken his sweet time letting Cain fuck him again because he'd been getting it somewhere else. Abel couldn't look him in the eye because he was guilty and afraid of getting caught. He grabbed Abel again and shook him, hard, rattling him against the wall. "I should have just let Laius and those fuckers have you. You'd have gotten all the cock you could take and then some. Is that what you wanted, you fucking whore?"

"It was only once, I just needed—"

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Cain snarled, throwing him down. Abel rolled, scrambling for the door, but Cain was too quick for him even with the gimp leg. He went after Abel, grabbing him by the ankle and so fucking angry he couldn't hardly see straight.

He jerked Abel back away from the door, straddling him and ready to beat the shit out of him if the slut would just fucking hold still. The stupid little fairy grabbed after something instead of cringing away or bringing his hands up, no goddamn sense in a fight.

"Get off me," Abel said, bringing the open knife up between them. Cain barely kept himself from startling back, staring at Abel in disbelief.

Cain recovered and leaned down closer than he knew was safe. "You think you're going to get me worse than Laius did, princess?" he sneered. Even if Abel didn't have good reflexes, they were close enough for Abel to cut him before Cain could grab the knife away. But not if he rattled the little slut, not if he got Abel shaken and put off his guard, made him doubt himself and who had the upper hand even if he did have the knife.

"Get off me," Abel said again, his knuckles white around the handle, but his voice wavered and Cain knew he had him then. Abel could pretend at bravery all he wanted, but when it came down to it he was just a scared little bitch.

Cain licked his teeth and smiled.

"Try it and we'll see how good you like it when I take the knife away and use it to open up your pretty scar again," he said, watching Abel's pale face drain. "See who wants to fuck you with your lying whore mouth cut up. Maybe Laius'll take you after I'm done, if you beg him for it. Maybe he'll even share you share you with his friends, so you can get all the cock you want."

Abel gave him a long look, the same mix of disgust and pity as when he'd accused Cain of raping Ethos, and then the blankness was back. It slid over his face and Abel turned his head away, dropping the knife. Cain grabbed it and threw it into the bathroom so Abel wouldn't be able to go after it again, but he just lay there. Deflated and empty.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Cain demanded, shaking Abel, limp as a dead thing.

"Just get it over with," Abel said to the far wall, his voice as blank and empty as his face.

 _Get it over with. I have things to get done tonight._ Cain shook him again, disgusted with the lack of Abel's annoyed, snotty bravado. _That_ was the Abel he'd eaten his pride to get back, _that_ was the Abel he'd tried to kill fucking Laius for.

Cain ground his teeth, glaring down at Abel.

The little blond looked back at him then, not so blank but defiant and stupidly brave. "I'm done being afraid of you and I'm done trying to trust you. Get off me or get it over with," Abel said.

Get pushed around by his navigator or show Abel he was exactly like that fucker Laius, was what he meant. "You cocky little shit. I'll give you something to have fucking nightmares about—"

"You said you didn't want to do it," Abel said quietly, looking back at the wall, some kind of emotion coming back into his voice. "You said you'd stop. You said—“ Abel said, throwing back every stupid fucking promise and lie Cain had ever told him, and Cain couldn't remember which was which any more.

Cain shook him, just to get him to shut up, just to stop listening to everything he'd lied to Abel about. "Why? Why'd you fuck him, you little slut?" He could still let Abel out of it if the little blond just lied and said he'd been pushed into it, if he just blamed Deimos and let Cain rescue him again.

Abel took a deep breath, holding it, eyes on the far wall and staring down something worse than Cain, something worse than the threat of having the shit beaten out of him or being handed over to Laius.

"I just—I couldn't sleep. I just needed someone here," Abel said finally.

Fuck.

He'd never thought Abel would be more afraid of his nightmares than he was of getting caught fucking someone else. Never thought Abel would be more afraid of what Cain had done to him than what Cain would do to him.

Cain let go of him and pushed himself up, disgusted with Abel, with Deimos, with Laius and himself. Abel wouldn't look at him, didn't cringe away as Cain stepped over him. He just lay there as Cain turned for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Cain looked over his shoulder at Abel, sitting up where he’d been thrown, all his stupid, misplaced trust gone now. "To go kill someone," Cain said, and left to go keep his promises.


	24. Chapter 24

**Abel**

Abel didn’t understand that at first, staring stupidly at the closed door where Cain had been.  The last thing he’d expected had been that Cain would leave without doing anything.  Bite him again, maybe.  Finally punch back or worse.  But not just leave.

_If you were a fighter, I’d kill you._

It made him sick when he realized what Cain meant, panicky and sick to think he’d get Deimos hurt because he hadn’t been able to do something as simple as lie to Cain’s face.  Cain wouldn’t kill him because he thought he could do worse later; he might kill Deimos, though, and all because Abel had been selfish and couldn’t sleep through the night alone.  Deimos had only been trying to help and it was Abel’s fault Cain had found out about it.

He pushed himself up and hurried out into the corridor, worried about finding Cain but more worried about not stopping him.  He was gone, though, the corridor empty and no way to tell which way or where he’d gone.

Abel searched after them both, in the hanger bay where he should have been working on the Reliant, in the cafeteria, even in central, everywhere except for central navigation where fighters weren’t allowed anyway, getting more frantic as an hour then two and three ticked by.  He looked everywhere he could think of short of Cook and Bering’s offices.

And the fighters’ level.  

He stood alone in central finally, having checked everywhere else but not sure he could make himself go look for Cain and Deimos down there.  He wouldn’t be able to face himself in the mirror if he couldn’t make himself at least warn Deimos, though, even if he couldn’t stop Cain.  

Cain had called him a coward, back when he’d offered to volunteer for the transfer.  _So you can get a soft desk assignment?_   He’d had to work himself up to apologizing for days only to have Cain throw it back in his face.  He’d almost left then, but it would have proven Cain right, would have proven that for everyone else he could stand up to, Cain was the one person he couldn’t face down.  

Cain was only a bully, though.  More dangerous than Porthos and Phobos, maybe, but still only a bully.  

Some fighter bumped Abel out of the way with a sneer as he stood there thinking.  They were all just bullies.  _You just make yourself a target looking scared all the time._   Abel didn’t know any more if Cain had ever cared enough to actually help, or if he’d just said all of that to try to get them having sex again, when forcing hadn’t worked.  Didn’t really care anymore, if he was being honest with himself.  Cain was just a bully; Abel wouldn’t let him hurt Deimos for doing something decent and kind, something Cain had never cared enough to do himself.

Abel squared his shoulders and left the comfortable safety of central.

The ratio of fighters to navigators in the corridors started rising the closer he got to the lift for the fighters’ level; it had never bothered him before, the uniforms bleeding from white to black the further he went, but now it made him claustrophobic.  He tried to keep one shoulder to the wall as he walked, but there were too many people pushing him towards the center of the hall.  Abel tried to keep another navigator in sight, but he turned off and Abel was alone, surrounded by fighters.

There were too many of them, the corridor crowded with them all jostling each other and Abel.  Some of them gave him room as soon as they saw the scar, but a couple grabbed his ass or shoved him with a smirk when they recognized him.  He didn’t see Laius or Planchet, but couldn’t remember what the other two in that little room had looked like; they could have been any of the fighters and he’d walk right by them.  He could have already, could have been followed or watched or touched by one of them and never known it.  His heart pounded faster and he thought about turning back, but he’d come this far and he’d have whatever Cain did to Deimos on his conscience if he left then.

The lift came in sight down the corridor, too many fighters waiting for it.  Five of them.  Five of them and Abel, alone in a small space again.  Abel dragged himself toward it, too close now to wait for another one and stuck with every fighter on the ship walking by with a sneer even if he did wait.

Abel slowed as the lift got closer, every step a torture until he was just out of reach of the fighters waiting for the lift, close enough to catch their looks at him and to each other.  A raised eyebrow here, a smirk there.  

He should have brought the knife with him, but the sudden thought of what Cain said made him glad he hadn’t.  _See how good you like it when I take it away._  

The lift opened and more fighters streamed out of it, too many of them, all of them pushing past Abel and he had to fight against the flow of them trying to just stay where he was and keep his jittery, betraying knees from pitching him over.  He caught his balance, though, pushing past them towards the lift until Deimos stepped out of the lift last and Abel caught a relieved, stupidly grateful breath.

At first he didn’t register Deimos’ bruised and bleeding mouth with how thankful he was to just see the little fighter walking.  And, selfishly, with how relieved he was to see anyone familiar in this sea of black.  He came up short as they came in arm’s reach and Deimos’ split, bleeding lip came into focus, Abel remembering how badly own jaw had hurt after Cain forced his mouth open and shoved him into the wall.

Cain had said he didn’t want to do it, he’d said he wouldn’t do it again, but he’d shown exactly how much his word was worth as soon as he found out about Deimos.  He’d gone and done exactly what he’d threatened to do to Abel, all because Abel couldn’t tell a lie or keep his face from betraying him and Deimos both.

“Oh god, Deimos, I’m so sorry—“ 

The little fighter cut him off with a long, smug look, eyeing Abel up and down as he wiped his mouth and licked blood from the back of his hand.  Other fighters gave them room as they passed, watching Deimos as Abel stared.  Deimos smiled.

Abel shuddered, suddenly realizing what Deimos had wanted all along.  Not to help, not to make Abel feel safe again.    

Of course not.  Deimos had never wanted Abel.  

He’d only ever wanted Cain, only ever wanted to get Cain angry enough to go after him again.  Abel had never understood Cain very well; Deimos knew him too well, well enough to get exactly the reaction he wanted once Cain found out about it.

When they’d slept together, he’d thought Deimos was safe because he understood what it was like to be hurt.  He’d thought Deimos had given him the knife to make him feel safe, give him a reason to trust Deimos and feel like he could protect himself.  But it had just been to get his guard down and get a reaction from Cain.

Abel should have gotten rid of the knife, or tried to get through those two weeks on his own, or just not stepped into the lift alone with Deimos.  He’d never even thought Deimos might have done it exactly because the little fighter wanted to be hurt by Cain again.  Never thought that Deimos would want to make Cain hurt them both, that he’d want to make Cain angry enough to use a knife on Abel.  

Abel swallowed back the knot of disgust that Deimos had wanted him precisely because he’d been raped, and by Cain.

It had been bad enough to know Cain had come from forcing him in front of Laius and Planchet, but it was somehow worse to know that what he’d thought was Deimos’ kindness was just a way of getting close to someone Cain had hurt.  Just a way to get close enough to prod at all the raw areas of that pain.

Just another way of taking advantage, none of the fighters interested in helping unless they got something from it.

“I need to get back to central” Abel said, looking anywhere but at Deimos, turning to leave and get away as quickly as possible, to get away from the awful realization what had happened. 

Deimos reached out for him suddenly, too fast for Abel to jerk away and he had a panicky thought of being stuck here surrounded by fighters, dragged away with no one knowing he was gone and Cain not caring even if he found out.  Deimos fisted a hand in his hair and yanked Abel’s head down, pulling Abel’s ear down to his mouth and Abel inhaled sharply, bracing himself to be bitten or worse.

Deimos just took a breath, though, his nose almost in Abel’s hair, like when they’d kissed.  

He whispered in Abel’s ear, raspy and distorted, almost quiet enough to miss in the noise of the corridor.  “Laius,” was all he said, then let Abel go and turned away, glancing back to see if he would follow.

 _I need to go finish killing that fucker Laius._  

Cain was stupid enough to think that getting himself put in the hospital again would fix anything.  Bullheaded enough to think that he could take down someone who had already cut him open.  Stubborn enough to think that he could do it alone.

Abel swallowed down the knot of hot fear in his throat and went after Deimos.


	25. Chapter 25

**Abel**

Deimos led them through the winding maintenance passages of the ship, empty dark service corridors Abel had never even thought about.  Cramped, barely tall enough to stand in, wiring and pipes going everywhere and hanging down so they had to duck every few feet or walk hunched over, Deimos walking fast but not hurrying.

Abel might have been alone for all the sound Deimos made, visible in the dim service light but disappearing without a sound, black into black, if Abel didn’t hurry to keep up with him.  He wondered if this was another set up, another of Deimos’ jokes on Cain and Abel both, but it was too late to find his way back alone now anyway.  

Nothing to do but trust Deimos, whether he wanted to or not.  After everything, no choice but trust Deimos.

Deimos’ steps were silent and gliding, confident in a way Abel couldn’t manage any more.  Abel glanced behind them and shuddered at the closing dark, hurrying to keep up with Deimos and the dubious comfort he gave.

The service corridor finally opened up onto a catwalk over one of the unused hanger bays, one where the techs stored the broken and crashed ships to strip for parts.  Deimos held the maintenance door open as Abel stepped through, straining to see or hear anything besides the dim outlines of broken ships in the faint starlight of the hanger mouth, none of the usual harsh fluorescents lit.  Deimos closed the service hatch behind them with a whisper, the only sound in the cavernous space.

Abel tensed as Deimos moved behind him, sure now that this was some kind of cruel joke and not sure how to get out of it.  If he could get away from Deimos and down from the catwalk, all the maintenance bays connected in a chain, but the door might as well have been miles away, past the gauntlet of all the dark ships and no straight path to run.  

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, glancing down at his empty hands and white uniform.  He’d stand out like a target in the dark between the ships, a bright moving spot with Deimos able to disappear into the dark.  The thought of being hunted and chased down alone here in the dark was worse even than the fear of being stuck in a tiny room alone with five fighters.  

Deimos came up beside Abel and pointed out over the dark, mangled wrecks.  Not touching, not pressing into Abel’s space, just standing there pointing past him at something.  Abel squinted, trying to make anything out, but then there was a sharp grunt and a cruel laugh from the far corner, and he didn’t need to see.  Cain and Laius.  Abel startled at the sound of someone being thrown into sharp, clattering metal, turning to see if Deimos would lead them down to stop this.

But Deimos was gone already, leaving Abel alone.  Disappeared black into black, or gone back down the service access, as if Abel could confront either Cain or Laius by himself.  

As if Abel had ever been able to protect anyone.  

Deimos had gotten what he wanted from Cain and Abel both, and now he was gone, uninterested in risking himself if he got nothing from it.  Abel swallowed at the sound of Cain’s voice, distorted with pain and the echo against metal, whatever he was saying lost.  Then there was another grunt and silence.  Footsteps on metal, slow and deliberate, too heavy to be Cain or Deimos.  

Abel could just leave, try to follow Deimos back out the service access, the thought selfishly appealing.  Cain had done this to himself, going after Laius when he should have known better, trying to fix something by getting himself as badly hurt physically as he’d hurt Abel emotionally, trying to push them back to a normal they couldn’t have anymore.  Cain had only pushed and pushed and pushed, every kind thing he’d ever done ultimately about sex and control.  

Abel could just leave him, let Cain take the consequences of everything he’d done to them both.  Even if he managed to somehow get Cain out of here alive, nothing would change between them, Cain finding something horrible to do again, suspicious and controlling and angry now that he knew about Deimos.  Abel hadn’t even realized until now that he’d been hoping for Cain to change, holding out for something that would never happen because Cain either didn’t want to or didn’t know how.

But worse again than the thought of Cain twisting all the promises he’d made was the thought of just leaving Cain here alone and what Laius would do to him.  Cain’s main fault was stubbornness, thinking that getting himself killed would make Abel happy.  As if he cared what Abel thought of him, as if he was trying to make things right and couldn’t see how to do it without killing himself.

Abel cringed away from the echoing sound of laughter and wet, bloody snarling, his knuckles white on the railing of the catwalk.  

He started to ease himself down the ladder to the floor of the maintenance bay.  Not sure what he would or could do, but he couldn’t just stand there and listen to Cain’s voice in the dark not knowing what would happen to him.  

More wet, sick noises, the sound of someone being punched repeatedly and Cain’s muted snarl bouncing through the damaged ships as Abel tried to hurry quietly.  The sound of it reassured him that Cain was at least still alive, but the echo disoriented him, made it hard to tell exactly where Cain and Laius were.  Like the walk to the lift, Abel dragged himself toward it, unable to live with himself if he didn’t go through with it.

If he managed to keep quiet, he might be able to surprise Laius from behind, give Cain enough time to catch a breath.  Bullies like Cain and Laius didn’t expect anyone to stand up to them; he might not be able to do much, but he might be able to do enough to make a difference and let Cain get them out of this.  

Abel tried not to think about the last time he’d stood up to Laius for slapping Phobos, and the consequences of that.

“What’s the matter, Cain?  Not so tough without that little bitch Deimos to back you up, are you?”  The low sound of Laius’ voice taunting Cain made Abel flinch back, so loud he might have been right there.  Abel peered around the closest ships, wary, but there was no one there, only darkness. 

Cain snarled something incoherent, and there was the sound of Laius’ broken grunt as Cain finally landed a punch.  Abel hurried toward the sound, over near the door to the next maintenance bay, stumbling over something that clattered away.  A knife.  A straight blade, not the one Deimos had given him, something Cain had dropped.  Abel picked it up and tried to keep his ragged breath from betraying him.  

“Just keep fighting, you stubborn gypsy cocksucker, it’ll just make it better when I teach you that lesson I promised,” Laius laughed.  “Maybe if you didn’t spend all your time bending over for your navigator you’d remember how to throw a punch.”  

Cain must have launched himself at Laius then; Abel could hear the footsteps and their grunts as they tried to throw each other off, and he rushed towards the sound of it.  If he could just get there in time, if he could just distract Laius long enough to get Cain his knife, maybe they could get out of this—

That thought was cut off by the cracking sound of Cain being thrown against something, Abel faltering as he heard Cain fall to the ground and not get up.  Silence except for Laius’ breathing and Abel’s as he tried to creep closer without being heard, unsure now where they were with no sound to follow.

Abel rounded a crumpled and collapsed ship, stepping out into the open between two wrecks to finally find Cain.  He lay out on the floor face down, twisted and boneless where he’d been thrown.  Blood all over, his eyes closed and his face a mass of bruises, barely breathing.  Abel stared, too shocked to do anything but stand there, too horrified to see anything else until the sound of Laius’ laugh snapped him out of it.  

The big fighter smiled lazily at Abel, Cain’s prone figure the only thing between them.  Laius didn’t have a mark on him except for a bruising lip where Cain had managed to punch him in the jaw, and he didn’t even look tired.  Abel swallowed down panic.  The wall and closed bay door hemmed them in on one side and the twisting piles of wreckage and darkness looming up on the other.  Abel took a step backwards without meaning to, dropping Cain’s knife out of jittery hands, shaken and alone.

Cain had called him a coward, and it was true.

Laius’ smile widened.  “Hello again, cutie,” he said, stepping towards Abel.  Cain groaned on the floor.  “Come to rescue your sleeping princess?  Give him a kiss and see if you can wake him up.”  


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, huge thank you to [elisetales](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales), who beta'd this for me, and who gives me all the feelings. <3

**Abel**

Abel pushed himself back towards Cain, away from the tempting and false safety of abandoning him and trying to disappear into the dark. Took one hesitant step and another, watching Laius’ lazy smile turn hard and predatory the closer he got.

Cain moved, trying to get a hand under himself and collapsing back down. Laius took another step, both of them closing in on Cain and Abel had no plan, no idea what to do besides try to grab Cain and run, but he’d never be able to carry Cain.

Something flickered over Laius’ head, a dark silhouette blocking out the stars and moving over one of the ships too quickly. Abel startled back, Laius’ step faltering for the first time as he followed Abel’s look.

Deimos glared down at both of them, but especially at Abel, who’d ruined Deimos’ only advantage. Laius stopped to grin, the big fighter laughing as he realized what Deimos meant to do. Abel caught a breath, almost yelled at Deimos to stop, but then Deimos dropped down on Laius.

Laius stumbled away with Deimos’ weight on him, his laugh cut off as the knife came down across his mouth.

Abel ignored them; Deimos could take care of himself if Abel could just get Cain out of here and get him safe. He dropped to his knees next to Cain, hauling one of his arms up over his shoulders. Cain snarled weakly, his eyes still closed, swiping at Abel.

Laius growled something as he threw Deimos off, the little fighter rolling to his feet as Laius went after him.

“Cain, we have to get out of here,” Abel whispered desperately. He shook Cain, trying to wake him up so he wouldn’t have to take all Cain’s weight, but Cain only managed a broken groan. Abel stood, dragging Cain up, lighter than he’d thought, only to stagger as Cain woke up and started to panic.

_  
_

* * *

 

**Cain**

He came back to himself with hands hauling him up, Laius finally getting the drop on him, or that motherfucker Six, back in basic when he’d been nobody and nothing. He tried to punch the fucker but missed because he was a fucking failure like everyone had always said, and now it was going to get him killed.

“Cain, _Cain_ , it’s me, we have to get out—“ Abel caught his fist, dragging him away, practically carrying him, and Cain collapsed against him, so fucking grateful he couldn’t even bear it.

“Abel, get the fuck out of here,” Cain choked, beating back the relief and terror at seeing Abel one last time before Laius gutted them both.

Whatever the stupid little blond was going to say was cut off with a horrible broken sound behind them, like glass grinding against metal. Deimos’ voice, shattered and hoarse, Cain knew it anywhere. 

“Where you going, Cain? You can’t face me without both your bitches to rescue you, and now you’re turning tail?” Laius called, circling around Deimos, who pushed himself up from the floor, his face bloody.

Abel dragged Cain towards the wall, backing them into a corner where Laius would be able to take his time grinding them down. No room to maneuver, Cain’s gimp leg just dead weight and worse than an anchor if Laius grabbed Abel and dragged him away. Cain pushed against Abel’s hands, trying to get his feet under him and keep Abel’s rescue from getting them both killed. 

He wondered if this sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach was how Abel felt in that little room, the wrong kind of rescue worse than no rescue at all.

“Get your hands off me, you fucking coward,” Cain spat at Abel as the little blond hauled him towards the wall.

“Cain, do you trust me or not?” Abel asked.

“No—“ 

“Too bad.” Abel hurried them through the dark, his breathing and Cain’s the only sound except for the strangled noise Deimos made as Laius grabbed him. 

Cain fought Abel every step of the way, or tried to fight him, his feet sliding out from under him on the metal floor. He had to get back to Deimos, had to get back where there was some goddamn cover, where there was room to move, where there was something to hide behind. “We can’t just fucking leave Deimos, Laius’ll kill him—“

“Cain, it’ll be fine, just trust me. Please,” Abel begged. Cain tried to pull away from him again, but his leg buckled and refused to take his weight, leaving him clinging to Abel like a goddamn cripple with no way to go after Deimos.

“You fucking coward,” Cain gasped against the pain in his leg and bruising face. “You fucked him and you’re just going to leave him there alone. You cowardly little whore,” he choked, but Abel just ignored him, dragging them into the corner, hauling Cain’s useless dead weight like Abel could get them out of this.

They’d just made the wall when Laius came after them, yanking Deimos by the collar, the little shit’s toes trailing as he tried to get his feet under him and keep from being strangled. Abel propped Cain up against the wall, frowning at something, fucking around with something while Cain had to huddle there and watch Laius throw Deimos down.

“They’re both pretty cute, Cain,” Laius called, his boot on Deimos’ back, the little shit still trying to twist and claw like there was any way out of this. “Maybe you can thank both your little white knights by having them fuck you at the same time instead of just fucking each other. I heard you used to like it from both ends.” 

Cain ground his teeth, pushing away from the wall and Abel’s hands as the little blond grabbed after him. His knee shook, his gimp leg threatening to give out again and get them all killed. He’d told Deimos to not fucking follow him, but the little shit had gone and gotten Abel and now it would be Cain’s fault when Laius killed all three of them. 

Laius smirked down at Deimos, then past Cain at Abel. Focused back on Cain finally, stepping over Deimos.  “Everyone heard about how you got passed around in basic, all the instructors’ favorites,” Laius smiled, taking a step. 

Everyone got fucked in basic. It didn’t mean anything unless you couldn’t take it and washed out, and Cain wasn’t one of the cowards who let his goddamn feelings get in the way. 

“No wonder Bering likes you so much. I guess we’ll see how much he likes you once he sees how pretty you are all cut up.”

Cain snarled and went after Laius again.

_  
_

* * *

 

**Abel**

Cain pushed himself away from the wall faster than Abel had thought he could manage, launching himself at Laius as the big fighter kicked Deimos out of his way. Deimos scrambled, leaving Cain to face Laius alone again.

Abel punched at the code panel frantically, not able to make himself watch Cain. None of the overrides he knew worked, his hands shaky anyway, slipping as he tried to key and rekey entry codes, but the damn thing had been locked to a technician’s code.

Cain made a strangled noise, and Abel glanced back just in time to see him go down at Laius’ feet, his bad leg buckling under him. Laius kicked at him viciously, aiming for Cain’s scarred leg. 

Abel hesitated too long, torn between going after Cain or retrying his last entry code. Just as stupid and useless as Cain had always said.

Deimos came out of the dark then, too fast to see, too fast for Laius to catch this time. Abel scrambled for Cain as Deimos brought his knife up into Laius’ side. 

Cain didn’t fight Abel this time. He was light and gasping, too light as Abel dragged him back to the wall and retried the code, their last chance to get out of this, Abel’s last chance to pull Cain out of this suffocating darkness. 

Deimos circled behind them, shielding them from Laius, all four of them pushing into the corner as the door finally rolled open.

A circle of navigators startled back from the opening door, staring as Cain and Abel tumbled out of the darkness, Laius snarling through a mouthful of blood as Deimos backed away from him. Abel tripped against someone and collapsed, Cain’s weight finally dragging him down to the floor as another fighter stepped between them and Laius, backing up Deimos. 

“What the fuck is this?” Encke yelled across the bay, scattering the navigators in front of him as he pushed his way towards them, trailing a group of angry looking senior fighters.

“Get this piece of shit out of here,” Encke snapped at them, jerking his head at Laius. Cain tensed, like he thought he could still put up a fight against anyone if Encke wanted him taken away too. Abel laid a hand on Cain’s arm as Laius was dragged away kicking and snarling. 

Abel hauled Cain up to face Encke standing. The last thing they needed was insubordination charges on top of everything else. Abel ignored the smear of Cain’s blood spreading over his white jacket as Cain clung to him.

Encke gave Deimos, Cain and Abel a long look. “Which of you morons started this shit?” he demanded, taking a step towards them. Cain’s hand tightened on Abel’s arm. 

Deimos took a step forward, putting himself between Encke and Cain and Abel. Deimos held out the bloody knife he’d stabbed Laius with. Volunteered himself.

Encke looked back and forth from Deimos to Cain, his glare lingering on Cain. It was Abel’s turn to tense, his hands trying to hold Cain up where he swayed. Deimos took another step forward, though, and Encke must have decided that only of them was good enough, Cain too beaten down already to bother punishing. Encke grabbed the knife away from Deimos and gestured for the little fighter to be taken away.

“I’m not going to see you two idiots again if you know what’s good for you,” Encke said, mostly to Cain, turning away and leaving Cain and Abel alone as the hanger bay went back to normal.

Abel took a deep breath, Cain leaning against him. They stood there together, where they should have been working all morning, steps from the Reliant and their routine.

Cain took a deep breath. He glared after Deimos, Abel following his look. “I swear to fuck if I ever see you two near each other again, you’ll both regret it,” Cain said finally.

Nothing had changed. 

Of course it hadn’t. They were still just Cain and Abel, and nothing had changed between them. Despite everything, they were back to normal.

Abel took Cain’s arm over his shoulder to help Cain limp out of the hanger, Abel grinding his teeth to keep from doing this in public. Keeping this private was the last favor he’d ever do for Cain. Abel let Cain lean against him, not sure how much he should regret.


	27. Chapter 27

**Cain**

They made it as far as the elevator.

Cain shoved Abel into the lift, pushing the little blond against the wall as soon as the door closed to keep his stupid fucking leg from pitching him over, to keep Abel from seeing the shake in his hands and his knee.  He grabbed Abel by the collar, his mouth too bruised to kiss, even though all he wanted was to fuck until he could fall asleep with Abel under him, warm and safe and protected.  “You _stupid_ little shit, what the _fuck_ did you think—“

“Get your hands off me,” Abel said, hard and flat.  The little blond pushed Cain’s hands away, pissed and angry even though he’d bothered to come after Cain.  

_I’m done trying to trust you._

Cain staggered and grabbed Abel again, trying to keep his balance.  He had to shake some goddamn sense into the little shit, had to make him realize how close he’d been to getting them both killed, had to make Abel realize how close Cain had come to losing him.  “Abel, you can’t go after someone like Laius—“

“But you can?  You almost got yourself killed, what was I supposed to do?”  Abel stuck out his jaw defiantly, like he’d ever been able to protect anyone, like Laius would have ever done anything but laugh and beat him to a bloody pulp if that fucking door hadn’t been there.  

Like Abel hadn’t just pulled Cain’s ass out of the fire in front of Encke and everybody, making him look like a fucking idiot who had to have his goddamn navigator cover his back.  Cain ground his jaw.  “You fucking _humiliated_ me in front of the _whole goddamn ship_ —“

“And you haven’t humiliated me?” Abel demanded.  “How do you think it’s been for me, Cain?  Would you rather be dead than have anyone think I’m your partner instead of just your _bitch_?”

“No one—“

“Everyone thinks that, everyone knows about what happened, and maybe I could even deal with it if you didn’t think it too, but you always have.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t _fucking lie_ to my _face,_ Cain.  Did you even hear yourself this morning?  Do you ever listen to anything you say?” Abel demanded, his voice rising, and Cain flinched away from every stupid fucking thing he’d ever said to Abel, the shaking in his knee getting worse. “You said you’d fucking _cut_ me, you can’t _do_ that.  You called me a _whore_ and then you fucked Deimos _again_.  You’re never going to change.”

“Did he tell you that?  Did the little shit fucking tell you that?  I punched him in the mouth when I found him, but I’ll kill him if he told you I fucked him—“

Abel glared at him, his lips pressed together, and Cain’s breath hitched in his chest, tight and panicky like Abel had just punched him in the gut.  He couldn’t tell what would be worse, Deimos trying to get between them or Abel thinking of it himself.  

“No.  No, he didn’t say that,” Abel said finally, and Cain knew which was worse.  “I just assumed.”

“Is that what you think of me?  You think—“

“Cain, _get your hands off me,”_ Abel snapped, and Cain only realized then that he’d tightened his grip on Abel’s shoulders, Abel’s white jacket covered in his blood and starting to turn dark.  “I’m done with this,” Abel said.  “You can’t just bully me into thinking what you want.  You don’t own me just because we slept together.  You only get as much of me as I want to give, and before I thought I could wait for you to realize it, but all you do is take and threaten when it’s not enough.  I’m getting a transfer if I have to tell them every stupid, humiliating thing I’ve ever let you do to me.”  Abel finally pulled out of his grip then, a disgusted look on his face, and Cain’s bad leg buckled under him without Abel to prop him up anymore.

Abel just watched him collapse.  

The little blond moved to the door, two steps away and miles out of reach, and Cain just collapsed without Abel there to hold him up, pathetic and useless by himself.  Abel stood there watching as Cain tried to claw at the metal walls and push against the floor to haul himself back up, but he couldn’t get the fucking gimp leg under him, couldn’t do anything except close his eyes against the pain and Abel watching him, the humiliation of being trapped alone on the floor with Abel there to see it worse than being watched by the entire fucking hanger.  

The lift slowed for their floor and Cain squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see Abel turn and leave him there alone.  

He caught Abel’s smell first, before he realized Abel had closed the distance between them and reached a hand down.  Cain stared at his hand, stupid and useless and unable to look a fucking pansy navigator in the eye.  Abel reached the rest of the way down, taking Cain’s hand, hauling his arm up around Abel’s shoulders again, dragging Cain up with him.

Cain limped next to him down the hallway, barely able to keep his feet under him in the empty corridor with Abel’s help, the silence and the emptiness worse than if everyone had been there to see him dragged back like this.  Abel keyed the door to their room and eased Cain down on the mattress.

Abel stood back up then, straightening his bloody jacket, and this time it was Cain looking up at him from the bed.  “I’m getting the transfer, Cain,” Abel said quietly, and turned away.

Cain stared at his back.  He was too shocky and unbalanced from the pain in his leg, the pain in his head, the pain in his chest, to really hear what Abel said.  But Abel went to the door, one more step and he’d be gone, and Cain finally understood what he meant.  

“You can’t,” was all Cain managed to get out, and it sounded pathetic even to him.

Abel glanced back, something like pity on his face, the last thing Cain wanted to see.  “I can and I will. I’m done with being afraid of you.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?”  Cain caught his breath, clamping his mouth shut as soon as he realized he’d said it.  

Abel sucked his lip, looking anywhere but Cain.  “I don’t know,” he said quietly.  “Maybe figure out what’s wrong with yourself and why you can’t let anyone help you.  I tried, and I’m done.”

Cain stared at Abel and swallowed back every horrible thing he wanted to say to beat him back into place.  They didn’t have that normal anymore and there was no going back to it.  

Abel wasn’t a coward.

Abel had always been the strong one, keeping them together when Cain was too busy being an asshole, too busy fucking Deimos and worrying about how he looked to a fucking rapist like Laius.  

Cain was a coward, always had been.  Let Bering shitcan him for losing the last option for a navigator.  If Abel was so disgusted with him anyway, scrubbing floors for the rest of his enlistment would be better than having Abel look at him like this every day even if Cain managed to hang onto him.  Abel had been Cain’s last chance on a lot of things and he’d managed to fuck up the only good part of this whole shitty mess.

“Fine,” Cain said, forcing himself to say it, forcing himself to do something good for Abel for once.  “Fine, get your transfer, go fuck Keeler or Praxis or someone who deserves you, I sure as fuck never did.”

Abel frowned at him like he hadn’t heard.  Stared at Cain like they’d never met before.  

“What?” Abel said finally.

“Get your transfer.  You should have stayed safe in central where I couldn’t get you.”

“Cain, I—“ Abel stopped there, frowning down at his feet.  He shifted in front of the door.  Touched it, like that night he’d panicked in the shower because Cain had been a fucking idiot.  Cain looked away from him so he wouldn’t have to see Abel go.  “Cain, what’s _wrong_ with you?”

“A lot,” Cain shrugged, frowning at the mattress and all the stupid shit he’d done, waiting for the sound of the door.

Just silence, too much silence, and Cain couldn’t make himself look up to see if Abel was still watching him.  “I don’t want to go back to central,” Abel said finally.  “And I’m not interested in Keeler.”

Cain glared up at him then.  “That’s a fucking lie.”

“Maybe,” Abel said with a little shrug, easing himself down to sit next to Cain.  “But I don’t want to go back to central.  You’re not very good at pouting, you know.”

“Not good at a lot of things,” Cain mumbled, glaring at Abel again when the little shit laughed.  

“I just—Cain, I need you, but I need you to listen to yourself.”

“So I can hear what an asshole I am?”

Abel laughed again, short and tired this time.  “Yes,” was all he said, and leaned back against the wall.  The little blond sighed and started undoing his bloody jacket.  “Why do you have to say shit like that, Cain?  Haven’t you ever been afraid of anyone?”

 _No._   Cain watched Abel shrug out of his coat, listening to every lie he’d ever told Abel and every lie he still wanted to tell him.  “Yeah,” Cain said quietly, wishing they didn’t have to talk about this, but hanging onto any thread Abel would give him, even if it meant making himself not lie to Abel for once.

“Then why do you say things like that?  Why do you want me to be scared all the time?”

“I need to keep you,” Cain said, and that was most of the truth, even if he wished he could tell Abel the rest of it.  But even if he could force himself to stop lying to Abel, Cain still couldn’t make himself tell Abel the whole truth, because he’d always be a fucking coward.

“It’s easier to keep someone who wants you than someone who’s afraid of you,” Abel said, the disgust and pity back in his voice, and he started to get up again.

Cain made himself watch this time, determined to see Abel go and not be such a fucking coward.  Just one last look at him, since Abel would never fuck him again after this, not like last time, all the want and neediness gone out of him.

Abel dropped his bloody jacket on the mattress, stripping every trace of Cain off him as he left.  Abel ducked into the bathroom to get his shit and Cain closed his eyes, just for a second, wishing Abel would get this over with so he could drain the last of his vodka and not have to face Bering sober.

Abel finally came out of the bathroom and Cain made himself watch, his vision blurry with exhaustion and his right eye starting to swell shut.  The little blond settled back next to him with a cup of water and a damp washcloth, and pressed some pain pills and the water into Cain’s aching hand.  He took it and threw the pills back, anything to make Abel just get out faster, but the little blond dragged it out, torturing him with dabbing the blood off his face.  

Just silent, judging and quiet.  Abel smelled like blood and sweat instead of his usual clean detergent, and Cain couldn’t stand the warmth of him so close.  He just wanted to lean into Abel and fall asleep, but didn’t think he could take having Abel shove him away again.  

Better to just get it over with.

“What about your transfer?” Cain managed finally.

Abel’s hand faltered, his fingers grazing Cain’s cheek for the first time instead of the cloth.  Abel set it down and Cain cursed himself out for reminding Abel and not just keeping his damn mouth shut.  He leaned away from Abel to give him space to get up, but found Abel’s hands on him, pulling his jacket off gently, pulling his head down to Abel’s lap.  

“I’ll think about it,” Abel said, smoothing Cain’s hair down, and that was good enough.  Abel picked up the cloth again and Cain closed his eyes, grateful to have whatever Abel would give.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read, and especially to Hamlet, who made such wonderful characters and is so gracious about fic. <3 I really appreciate everyone who has stuck around to read, and I hope the wait for the epic conclusion of Cain Learns About Enthusiastic Consent and Human Emotion was worth it!

**Abel**

“Cain?  Are you awake?”

“Am now,” Cain snapped, too quick to have been sleeping.  Abel let that lie go, even though it was too obvious.  Cain had been awake, they both had been, Cain tossing restlessly and trying to not touch in their little bed.  

Medical had patched him up without a hospital stay this time, but he still had a bruised rib and he was back to walking almost as badly as he had right after they’d been shot down.  He came back from his physical therapy appointments as crabby as ever and smoked sullenly afterwards.  

They hadn’t fucked since the morning Cain went after Laius, just tried to stay out of each others’ space and did what work they had to.  Cain let himself be touched sometimes in the morning, when he was having trouble getting up with his bad leg gone stiff, but mostly they just stayed out of each other’s way, not talking about anything, and especially not what had happened.

“You wake me up just to see if I was asleep, princess?” Cain mumbled, rolling onto his back.

“You weren’t asleep,” Abel said, wishing he hadn’t said anything in the first place if Cain was going to be like this.

“Why the fuck do you care anyway?”

Abel sighed and sat up.  He was tired of Cain’s sulking, wishing they could just go back to normal so he wouldn’t have to step so carefully around Cain’s bruised ego.  

He leaned down and kissed Cain, teasing until Cain parted his lips just a little, just enough.  Abel didn’t need a lot, just needed Cain to let him in enough to convince him to stop pouting over whatever Cain wouldn’t talk about.

Cain tilted his chin up but otherwise didn’t move, so Abel pulled back and straddled him, awkward and clumsy with Cain watching him, but it wasn’t like he’d ever had to do the seducing before.  He didn’t really want to, but Cain hadn’t made a move in weeks, and now that Abel was on top of him he could tell Cain had been tossing and turning because he was just as hard as Abel was.  It had been too long, both of them still wanting each other, but not sure what the rules were or what normal was.

Abel skimmed a hand over Cain’s chest, leaning down to kiss him again, but Cain turned his head away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at Abel sideways.

“Do you want me to stop?” Abel asked, blushing hot.  Maybe he should have done this more slowly, given Cain time to ease back into it instead of just pushing him.

Cain took a couple of slow breaths, looking Abel’s face up and down.  Looking for something.  Cain reached one hand up, and Abel got ready to be pushed off or have a hand fisted in his hair.  

But Cain ran a light finger over Abel’s ear and down his jaw, the tip of one finger trailing over his lips.  Maybe a little falter on the scar.  Abel caught Cain’s first two fingers in his mouth, teasing a little, waiting to see what Cain wanted.  

Cain watched him, his breath shallow, so Abel sucked his fingers deeper, keeping his eyes on Cain to see what he was getting away with.  Enough, it seemed like.  

Abel reached down to stroke Cain’s cock, Cain watching him as Abel bit his fingers and sucked in the same slow rhythm his hand worked.  Cain swallowed.  He took his fingers away then, trailing them down Abel’s chest to his hip, following the wet mark it made with his eyes to where Abel’s hand rolled over the head of his cock, thumbing the tip.

Cain closed his eyes and tilted his head back, and Abel just let him, relieved to see Cain finally relax after so long.  He was less dangerous this way, more understandable when he opened up just enough to let Abel see that Cain wanted things too, that he could let Abel be in control, even if it was only for a few minutes to stroke him off.

He thought about finishing Cain like that, just watching him lie back and letting Cain not worry about anything.  Cain was hot in his hand, not close now but he would be if Abel stroked him harder or for much longer, it had been too long since they’d fucked.  Abel was hard just watching him, could probably have gotten himself off just after Cain from watching him.  

But Abel needed Cain to know that they could still fuck, and didn’t think he could actually say anything about it, the thought of talking about what he wanted too embarrassing even after everything.  Maybe more embarrassing after everything.

Abel got off him again, rearranging himself next to Cain and waiting for him to sit up.  Abel ran a hand up Cain’s thigh, warm and solid, bringing his mouth down to Cain’s hard cock.  

Cain was gentle, leaning back against the wall and stroking Abel’s back, breath shallow as Abel teased the soft underside of his tip.  Abel rolled his tongue over the ridge, glancing up to see Cain’s eyes close again and his mouth open before Abel swallowed him.

He’d barely gotten him slick when Cain pulled Abel’s head up, almost jerking him up by the hair.  He gave Cain a worried look, not sure what Cain wanted or if he’d done something wrong, but then Cain’s fingers were back in his mouth and Abel knew what he was supposed to do and what Cain was going to do.  

Abel rolled his tongue over Cain’s calluses, looking for all the rough edges of him and tracing the delicate pads of his fingers.  Cain stared at him with big eyes, something like surprise on his face as he pressed his fingers further into Abel’s mouth and watched him suck.  Abel got harder just from Cain’s eyes on him, his cock pulsing at the thought of Cain pressing fingers into him.

Cain pulled his fingers away and Abel rearranged himself again, leaning down to kneel over Cain with his mouth on Cain’s cock and his ass in the air.  

Abel moaned around him as Cain slid his fingers in, one first and then the other, slow but inevitable, and it had been so long Abel thought he might just come from Cain’s fingers and the smell of him alone.  He could feel Cain watching him, and Abel rocked back against his hand as he tried to keep his breath and bring Cain as close as he felt.

So easy to just let Cain spread him open and lay out all his raw nerves, so easy to pretend that Cain could ever be as open as he made Abel feel, or that Cain gave even a little of himself when he pressed into Abel.  Cain’s fingers slid into him so easily, the world narrow and safe and familiar as Cain’s hands and body and smell.

Abel just wanted to be wrapped up in him and pretend that he could ever have all of Cain.

Cain made a strangled noise in his throat as Abel sucked.  He opened his eyes to see Cain staring at his leaking cock, Cain licking his lips just a little as he flicked his eyes from Abel’s cock to his mouth.  “You’re really getting off from this?” Cain asked breathlessly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

Abel backed off enough to catch a breath and try to think past Cain’s sliding fingers, slow and smooth.  “Yes?” he managed, giving Cain a sleepy smile, his eyes rolling a little as Cain pushed deeper.  Cain had always been good at this, taking his time at it and more gentle than Abel expected, every time.

“Just from sucking cock and fingers up—“

“Didn’t you like it when I—“ Cain pulled his fingers out and cut him off with a slap on the ass.  “Didn’t you?” Abel asked again, swallowing as Cain pushed his fingers back in, rougher this time.  

Cain fucked him without answering, and Abel closed his eyes against the feeling of it, leaning over Cain.  Cain would never admit it, but he’d asked for the transfer and having him back was enough.  Even if they hadn’t found normal yet, this was good enough.  

Abel let himself be shoved as Cain took his hand away, blushing a little as Cain pushed him to lay on his back and spread his legs.  Abel reached for him as Cain leaned over him, frowning at something, and Cain pulled Abel’s hands up over his head.

He pressed Abel’s wrists to the mattress, pinning Abel with his hands and his weight, everything suddenly tilting out of control.

“Cain—?” Abel choked, not sure how to read Cain’s expression, closed and hard.

“Why the fuck are you staying, Abel?  What if I do it again?” Cain demanded.  He pressed Abel’s wrists down, squeezing too hard, his face too close.  

Abel shied away, trying not to panic.  

After everything, he’d just let himself be put right back where Cain could do whatever he wanted, because he’d made the mistake of thinking he could ever trust Cain or understand him.

“What if I did it right now?” Cain demanded, squeezing his wrists tighter.  Abel tried not to think about that they were both still hard, Cain’s cock pressed against his, ashamed of himself and afraid of Cain, the world even narrower now and all the safety gone.

“Are you going to?” Abel whispered.  

He didn’t think Cain would, but he’d never thought any of it would happen.

Cain looked him up and down, like he was looking for the answer in Abel’s face.  Abel wished he had an answer to give, wished he could just tell Cain what he should say.  Wished he could go back and keep it all from happening, or keep whatever had been done to Cain from happening.

“No,” Cain said finally, almost too quiet, but he stayed still, frowning down at Abel.

Their breathing was loud in the dark, almost in sync, but not quite.  Cain leaned over him, his hands still too tight on Abel’s wrists, pressing down with his hands and his hips, pushing Abel’s thighs open with his weight.  His ligaments burned, no way to make it stop except to try to push Cain off or spread his legs wider, roll his hips up and try to take Cain’s weight like this was just sex and nothing else.

“Do you want to?  Did you want to then?” Abel asked, needing to be sure.

Not sure why Cain would need to talk about this in the worst way possible, dragging everything out with Abel pinned and exposed and vulnerable unless Cain felt that way himself.  Abel watched him, waiting for an answer, waiting to decide how afraid to be and how hard to fight.

“No,” Cain breathed, barely any sound.

Abel pulled one wrist out of Cain’s hand then, and the other, slowly, Cain watching him as Abel put his hands up to Cain’s shoulders.  Abel pulled him down, an arm over Cain’s back, pulling Cain down to lay across his chest, Cain’s face tucked against Abel’s neck.  Cain lay still, breathing shallow with his nose pressed behind Abel’s ear.

“Why are you staying?” Cain asked, so quiet Abel could have pretended he didn’t hear, and he almost did.

Abel smoothed Cain’s hair down, hoping he had the right answer.  He wasn’t really sure of all the reasons himself, but Cain needed something.

“Because you need me, and because I want you,” Abel said, waiting for Cain to tense and push away but hoping that had been enough.

Cain’s hand curled on his shoulder, his face still pressed to Abel’s neck and his weight almost too much on Abel’s hips.  He smoothed a hand over Cain’s back, hoping this wasn’t too much like petting or snuggling or whatever Cain hated when he was being unkind.  

Cain seemed like he needed something, and Abel wanted so badly to give him whatever it was if Cain would only let him in long enough to figure out what it was.

Abel reached down between them, shifting Cain’s weight just enough to roll his hips and line Cain’s cock up with his ass.  Cain wouldn’t or couldn’t talk about it, and Abel had run out of other ways to make Cain to stop worrying.  He sucked his lip as Cain pushed himself up enough to look down at him, too close and too far away.

And then Cain was pushing into him.  Slow, so slow.  Nothing like how they usually did this, too fast for Abel to really even think about it, but now Cain pressed into him steadily, taking his time and Abel closed his eyes so he could concentrate on the feeling of being filled and wrapped up in Cain’s smell, of being covered by him.

Cain nudged Abel’s head to the side, sucking his ear as he started to fuck Abel in short, deep strokes.  Abel gasped with Cain’s teeth on his ear, a sharp pull, a little like normal when they could just fuck without having to think about it.

Easier this way, the world safe and narrow if he just kept his eyes closed and concentrated, just Cain fucking him and nothing to worry about, faster now and Cain’s breath hot on his neck in short bursts.

Abel stroked himself, close again.  Cain’s skin was hot against him, his hands holding Abel steady as Abel tried not to think about anything.

He could have come like that, could have gotten himself off then except that Cain stopped moving and put a hand on his cheek.

“Abel.  Look at me.”  Abel took a breath, turning his face into Cain’s hand on his face.  He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to roll his hips up into Cain, anything to get them going again, but Cain wouldn’t move.  “Open your eyes and look at me.  You always close your eyes.”

Abel dragged himself back to look at Cain, shocked by Cain’s closeness and especially his eyes, right there with no way to get away from him even if Abel had wanted to.

“What do you want, Abel?” Cain asked quietly, staring down at him, intense and too close.

“Does it matter?” Abel said before he could think about it.

Cain pulled back like Abel had slapped him.  He ground his jaw and Abel wished he hadn’t asked, because they both knew the answer.  Talking about it only made it obvious that Cain cared enough to keep Abel hoping, but not enough to actually do anything about it.

Cain leaned down to kiss his neck, and Abel let him, wishing he didn’t care whether Cain wanted a real answer or not.  

“Of course it fucking matters,” Cain murmured against his neck, a soft kiss and a sharp bite.  “What do you want?  You want to stop?  You can say it, don’t just close your eyes if you want to stop.”

Abel’s breath caught in his throat as Cain started to pull away, as he started to pull out and leave Abel there empty.  He put a hand on Cain’s thigh and pulled Cain back down to him, trying to catch his breath and say something.

“Don’t stop.  Harder,” Abel gasped, shaking his head, anything to get them back to normal, anything to pretend that this was all of Cain and that Abel could have him just by asking.  Stopping was the last thing he wanted, when what he needed so badly right now was Cain in him and over him, and Abel pulled Cain back down to him.  

That was enough, Cain taking a breath and pushing back into him all the way, watching Abel’s mouth part and his eyes flutter closed.  

“Look at me,” Cain demanded, pulling back out of him until Abel opened his eyes. Cain watched him, eyes dark.

Cain rocked into him, gentle but his hands hard, putting a hand behind Abel’s neck to keep him in place, but there wasn’t anywhere else Abel wanted to be anyway.  Abel pulled Cain’s face down to kiss and let Cain fuck his mouth hard with his tongue, trying to pull his knees up wider and make Cain fuck him harder.

But Cain took deep breaths, fucking him in long, slow strokes, making Abel moan and writhe under him, pulling gasps out of him as Abel tried to take him deeper, tried to make Cain fuck him harder.  Cain had the leverage and wouldn’t do it, just watching Abel as he stroked himself and arched his back up into Cain, needing all of him.

Abel clung to him, even though Cain hated it, needing to pull him closer even with Cain’s mouth covering his and stealing all his breath and thoughts.  Cain let him, didn’t pull away, so Abel wrapped his legs around Cain’s waist, pulling him deep and holding Cain there as Abel came between them, hard and shivering with Cain still fucking him slowly.

Cain wasn’t finished though, pushing himself up enough to watch Abel again, and this time Abel made himself look back, watching Cain’s face as he dug his fingers into Abel’s hip and thrust faster, no sound except for Cain’s sharp breathing.  Abel put a hand on Cain’s chest, his skin hot and slick, his heartbeat thready and fast under Abel’s fingers.  

He put a hand on Cain’s face, trailing his fingers over Cain’s jaw and mouth, Cain’s lips parting just as he sank into Abel all the way with a moan.  Cain finally came into him then, leaning down to put his head on Abel’s shoulder as he shuddered. 

Cain lay still like that, face pressed into Abel’s neck and the weight of him too warm but comforting.  Abel stroked his back, wishing they could hang onto this forever until Cain pulled out and started to wipe them off with a dirty shirt, not looking at Abel.  

He threw the shirt away into the corner and lay down again, lying on his side facing away from Abel and not touching again.  Just as far away and closed as he had been before.  Abel sucked his lip, watching the curve of Cain’s back.  Waiting for anything and not sure how to get them back to normal.  He lay on his side facing Cain, careful to not touch him but needing to see him, even if Cain didn’t want him or need him.  

Abel almost fell asleep like that, curled around the emptiness Cain had left him.  

He caught his breath at Cain’s voice, though, wide awake as soon as Cain took a soft breath.  “Abel?” Cain asked the wall, so quietly Abel wouldn’t have woken up if he had been asleep.

Abel held his breath, not sure if Cain wanted him to hear this or not, not sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

Silence.  Maybe Cain thought he was asleep, maybe Cain had changed his mind about whatever he was going to say.  Abel reached out and brushed Cain’s shoulder, light, just enough to let him know he was awake.

“You were right,” Cain said, and that was all.  

Abel didn’t know what to say to that.  He wasn’t sure what Cain meant but didn’t want to ask, so he just pushed himself closer.  He curled against Cain’s back, putting an arm around his chest, turning his face so he could press a cheek to Cain’s warm shoulder.  

Cain didn’t move at first, gone rigid and Abel thought he might be pushed away.  He spread his fingers on Cain’s chest, taking what he could get while Cain would give it, anything to pretend there was something of himself that Cain would give.

But then Cain put a hand over his and relaxed against Abel, easing into his arms and letting himself be held.


End file.
